Everything is alive with the animating force of you. If you have access to greatness – to godlike power – and you do, you would spend it well. You would not dumb it down for the busy and the overwhelmed by trivia. You would bring it up as children bring up the relevant questions of …
A baker sees the world in terms of hunger and sustaining. And scents of toasty, secure warmth. A certain delight that comes with passing risen grasses and sugars through the mouth. A carpenter sees planks in trees. Possibility on a hillside. Space within a frame tied by nails and drywall. An artist sees things to …
Must one convince the self that the world is full of wonders? Or is it just so? The dawn sky delivers awe to a man, but why? Why make a fuss about gray on pink on orange on white on blue? And Jackson Pollack splashes of higher clouds beyond that. Was any of it better …
And the day is a process of delusion. One wakens with some clarity then layers gum onto the eyes as the hours pass. Gum from yesterday. Gum from an imagined tomorrow. Seldom a care for what’s afoot. Almost always an emerging misunderstanding. One is supposed to arise and clear the gum of the night’s dream. …
And she said, “Journey,” like she’s on some kind of a reasoned itinerary. “This is my journey.” “How’s your journey?” And the man couldn’t help but pilfer it. “Your journey couldn’t be less significant.” She teared up. “My journey brought me to you,” she said. “I couldn’t be less significant,” he said. He continued . …
