Mostly you look back and say, 'Well, OK. Things might have
been different, sure, and it's not too bad, but look - things
happen like that, and you did what you could.' You go back
and pick up the pieces. There's tomorrow. There's that long
bend in the river on the way home. Fluffy bursts of milkweed
are floating through shafts of sunlight or disappearing where
trees reach out from their deep dark roots.
happen like that, and you did what you could.' You go back
and pick up the pieces. There's tomorrow. There's that long
bend in the river on the way home. Fluffy bursts of milkweed
are floating through shafts of sunlight or disappearing where
trees reach out from their deep dark roots.
Maybe people have to go in and out of shadows till they learn
that floating, that immensity of waiting to receive whatever
arrives with trust. Maybe somebody has to explore what
happens when one of us wanders over near the edge and falls
for awhile. Maybe it was your turn.
that floating, that immensity of waiting to receive whatever
arrives with trust. Maybe somebody has to explore what
happens when one of us wanders over near the edge and falls
for awhile. Maybe it was your turn.
William Stafford
original title "Afterwards"
from The Way It Is
from The Way It Is
with thanks to Whiskey River
~
Photo - Mystic Meandering
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