i cried,
what of all those other roads?
he raised his hand to my lips
sealed in my questions
with an ice-white fingertip,
told me, with a heavy glance,
(without uttering a word)
take the road under your feet.
note where the paths merge.
i turned, and stared ahead
up the luminescent avenue
and wondered at my sudden death
which lay just beyond the view.
|
"Show up.
Pay attention.
Tell the truth.
Be open to the outcome."
-
Angeles Arrien, The Four-Fold Way
At the end of every day is the small miracle of my life.
I'm still here. I still breathe and think, still love and hate, still consume, and am consumed. When I no longer breathe, think, love, hate, and consume, when I am food for the gods and the worms, what is left is what I take with me. |