Irrelevant
Become irrelevant. Then you can dance. Become useless. Then you can observe, unobserved. Threatening no one, you are a secret agent of the Most High. Not understanding what in hell is going on, you gather the intelligence of the unknown and reveal the prophecy of silence. People don't notice your body, its pebbles and chinks where spiders nest, its deer trails spiraling nowhere, the dandelions growing from your cracks. Your mansion crumbles and you become a field of grass too low and green for storms to knock down. You wither to wisps of brown. A forest mother weaves you into a mat for her baby. You are so finely woven, you hold water for shepherds who watch under the stars. And when you have truly become nobody, the Goddess breathes you. You are filled with light even while your flesh is sleeping. Photo: Shepherd in the Dolomites, from The Guardian