Etchings in the Sand…

Thoughts and Photos from the Desert…

The Poem…

The poem is not the world.
It isn’t even the first page of the world.

 

But the poem wants to flower, like a flower.
It knows that much.

 

It wants to open itself,
like the door of a little temple,
so that you might step inside and be cooled and refreshed,
and less yourself

than part of everything.

 

 

 

Mary Oliver
The Leaf and the Cloud

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