FootprintsintheWind.com

Endless the depths
of our night sky
Scientia imagines
our universe rounded
just not measurable
So we find ourselves
each planet each person
at the center of the ball
moving apart
Or maybe we are on
the ball’s surface in
a viscous fluid
gathering ‘round
a hearth
these depths
out & over & held
are not, perhaps,
deep & out & over & held
but

:- Doug.

We know more of a friend at a later stage of our development than an earlier. Why should it surprise us that we can always go back with curiosity?

:- Doug.

When you were speaking, what of your friend did you take in? Go back—was it his face, what her hands were doing, whether she was distracted or bored? Early in her dementia, when irritated with me, my sister would bend her fingers and unbend them in a characteristic way—what was going on for her? While speaking, what did you hear of him—laughter, snicker, an encouraging hmm, farts? Did she reach to touch your hand, your shoulder? Did you catch an aroma or even taste? To what extent did you escape from your words and gestures so you could receive? Receive from his or her multitudes cascading over your head?

:- Doug.

The things you want most to give to others may be precisely what stands in our way—Being’s way.

:- Doug.