Or maybe it’s about the wonderful things that may happen if you break the ropes that are holding you. - Mary Oliver

There was only myself
and the world,
and it was I

who was leaving.

Understand from the first this certainty. Butterflies don’t write books, neither do lilies or violets. Which doesn’t mean they don’t know, in their own way, what they are. That they don’t know they are alive — that they don’t feel, that action upon which all consciousness sits, lightly or heavily. Humility is the prize of the leaf-world. Vainglory is the bane of us, the humans.

The face of the moose is as sad as the face of Jesus.