There
are days, and then years, when we stand by, watching our own small lives come
and wander on along.
Watching as the world-as-it-seems-from-here
shifts and changes, and we respond, each of us with our own predilections, with
our own presumptions.
And yet, no matter the human machinations
and the daily choices of the nearest herd of deer of the neighborhood; no
matter the whiling ways of the flock of geese heading overhead this evening,
still the earth remains.
Sometimes, I think that if we lack trust
in anything, we can once again go find it in the broad powerful hurling earth,
in the endlessness of all.
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