Here I am at my desk again, fingers poised over the keyboard, no idea what will come next.
A thought of something I read the other day about the necessity of great empty space in a Greek temple, because the void is where the gods are. The rest of us are lumped all together here in this marvelous clutter of our endlessly temporary world.
Three loads of laundry done today. Washed and dried. Emptied the bin of dirty clothes. Already tonight it will start filling again (temporarily).
Splendid sun all morning and afternoon; everyone is convinced it won’t last. Of course it won’t!
It’s all just temporary.
Like me, like the voice of the fellow walking by outside my window, like the slice of moon perched in the night sky, like the breath I’m taking in just now. It’s the one and only breath; and every breath – mine, yours, the cat’s, Obama’s, a newborn baby’s, everybody’s – are all at once; and they are all already gone.