Your grief is as great as your splendor was: some god is weighing the one out equal to the other. - Anne Carson

...there it was one of those moments that is the opposite of blindness.

Now I think it is true to say of the road, and also of God, that it does not move. At the same time, it is everywhere. It has a language, but not one I know. It has a story, but I am in it. So are you. And to realize this is a moment of some sadness. When we are denied a story, a light goes off. I am asking you to study the dark.

we disappear.
It happens to me frequently. You disappear? Yes and then come back.
Moments of death I call them.