 |
| Balthasar van der Ast |
Introductions
Some of
what we love
we
stumble upon—
a purse
of gold thrown on the road,
a poem,
a friend, a great song.
And
more
discloses
itself to us—
a well
among green hazels,
a nut
thicket—
when we
are worn out searching
for
something quite different.
And
more
comes
to us, carried
as
carefully
as a
bright cup of water,
as new
bread.
Moya
Cannon
How many of the things we love have been stumbled upon, run into, or been
shown us by a friend? How many times while walking have we come around a bend to a view so unexpectedly gorgeous - a tree with leaves on fire or a corner pocket of woods crowded with Queen Anne's Lace? What about the day Mung Bean and I were talking in the schoolyard and happened to look up at what I've never seen before or since - a rainbow ring around the sun?
So many beautiful things have found me.
The cobalt feather of a Stellar Jay, a Golden Cowrie shell, a piece of worm-eaten wood that looks like a miniature landscape - that's not even getting into the books that have jumped at me, or the poems, or how a painting gripped me by the neck as my eye ran over a wall...
Hello, gifts.
Glad to meet you.
