Wednesday, November 21, 2012

in awe


to be as mirror

some deep part of me
needs to rise up
and be born onto the page:
I feel it when I’m most alive,
that oh-so-human sense
that at our best we are to be the ones
to perceive, to notice, to appreciate, to chronicle,

for the universe seems casual, unconscious,
as the miracle of design unfolds,
and it feels to me that casualness is not indifference,

we humans can wake up, look about,
and be as mirror and judge
so that what is being wrought can be understood
as a marvel, or as an essay forth that needs another effort,

in the absorbing effort of living the moment
we can lose ourselves in the myopic,
the sheer effort it takes to get from here to any there,

and yet I love the shuddering awe we can feel
when we can let ourselves realize the glory,
the transient glory,
of what a flower,
a bird,
a person,
 can live.

by Henry H. Walker
November 16, ’12

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