If only that were our reality. Sigh. Imagine…
Then we opened our new favorite book at random, and found this:
Even now
I remember somethingthe way a flower
in a jar of waterremembers its life
in the perfect gardenthe way a flower
in a jar of waterremembers its life
as a closed seedthe way a flower
in a jar of watersteadies itself
remembering itselflong ago
the plunging rootsthe gravel the rain
the glossy stemthe wings of the leaves
the swords of the leaves. . .
rising and clashing
for the rose of the sunthe salt of the stars
the crown of the windthe beds of the clouds
the blue dreamthe unbreakable circle.
—part 7 of The Book of Time, a poem by Mary Oliver
Cartoon via The New Yorker