Same thing
In this small pool of sunlight I sit watching a play enacted by motes about how things grow and change, find purpose and lose it.
Only when you look back can you understand that spending time and wasting it are the same thing.
Only when the curtain falls can you see past blinding desperate desire. There is nothing to cling to, nothing to clutch at, you were never the actor as much as you were the stage, you were never the tree as much as you were the earth, you were never the kite as much as you were the sky,
and the chance and the joy of rooted growth of tethered flight of being moved of being seen of being found of having been.
We are all wards of light. Only in the dark places can we grasp that. Light holds out its hand at both ends of the tunnel. Take it. Or let go. It’s the same thing.
- SJM