Miracles cannot be explained, that is their miraculous nature.
When we admit our vulnerability, we include others. If we deny it, we shut them out.
Death does frame a person and somehow it is the good that stays.
Old age is not an illness, it is a timeless ascent. As power diminishes, we grow toward the light.
Pain can make a whole winter bright, like fever, force us to live deep and hard.
Where joy in an old pencil is not absurd.