If only that were our reality. Sigh. Imagine…

Then we opened our new favorite book at random, and found this:

Even now
I remember something

the way a flower
in a jar of water

remembers its life
in the perfect garden

the way a flower
in a jar of water

remembers its life
as a closed seed

the way a flower
in a jar of water

steadies itself
remembering itself

long ago
the plunging roots

the gravel the rain
the glossy stem

the wings of the leaves
the swords of the leaves

.   .   .

rising and clashing
for the rose of the sun

the salt of the stars
the crown of the wind

the beds of the clouds
the blue dream

the unbreakable circle.

                                       —part 7 of The Book of Time, a poem by Mary Oliver

 

 

Cartoon via The New Yorker