Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.

Today I am altogether without ambition. Where did I get such wisdom?

Today again I am hardly myself. It happens over and over.

How heron comes It is a negligence of the mind not to notice how at dusk heron comes to the pond and stands there in his death robes, perfect servant of the system, hungry, his eyes full of attention, his wings pure light

I climb, I backtrack. I float. I ramble my way home.

The end of life has its own nature, also worth our attention.

I simply do not distinguish between work and play.