3/05/2012

Sunday Morning

By dawn, the wind had fled, the Canada geese had returned to the wetlands. Shapes of Light seeped through my eyes and took their places, pearls of tulip and narcissus. No crisis to be averted in the tangled plum. No burden of knowledge demanding a question. Only the textured stillness of melting shadows, and the green unfolding Now that we call time. The world does not need our ideas. It needs our amazement.

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