There are things you can’t reach. But You can reach out to them, and all day long. The wind, the bird flying away. The idea of god. And it can keep you busy as anything else, and happier. I look; morning to night I am never done with looking. Looking I mean not just standing around, but standing around As though with your arms open.

So come to the pond, or the river of your imagination, or the harbor of your longing, and put your lips to the world. And live your life.

Rhythm is one of the most powerful of pleasures, and when we feel a pleasurable rhythm we hope it will continue. When it does, it grows sweeter.

I wanted the past to go away, I wanted to leave it, like another country; I wanted my life to close, and open like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song where it falls down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery; I wanted to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know, whoever I was, I was alive for a little while.

What misery to be afraid of death. What wretchedness, to believe only in what can be proven.

Wild sings the bird of the heart in the forests of our lives.

Every day I walk out into the world / to be dazzled, then to be reflective.