Perhaps a sparrow says, "I am but a bread crumb in his beard, a snippet of his speech, yet enough to nourish the world until its end."
Maybe a robin replies, "I am a spot of wine on his shirt, the cheerful bloom of a tulip in his hand, a burst of laughter at the return of spring."
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
A Happy Balance
Perhaps we learn best from words in this book made of air, receiving its freshness a little at a time, our thoughts scattering the sand of its phrases through our fingers in a flood of ink and wind.
Or maybe, like the wandering dog that finds a happy balance between the warm spring sun and the longest hair on its tail, wisdom comes from simple attention to the simple, humble attention to humble things, and living attention to all that lives.
Or maybe, like the wandering dog that finds a happy balance between the warm spring sun and the longest hair on its tail, wisdom comes from simple attention to the simple, humble attention to humble things, and living attention to all that lives.
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