By the time I reach the clearing I am awake again. Things are waking up all over the universe. Thank you, grass spindles heavy with dew, last season’s leaves hanging down. Thank you spider web, and the idea of spider webs. Who would have thought it? Thank you pine tree pointing to you, incredible blue sky, to the airplane you carry. May God’s towering angels ease you back to earth. Thank you Sun, accustomed and all-consuming, may we keep judicious distance from one another. If I happen to think I am holy, then there are thousands of holy men ordinary as apples all waking up this morning wide-eyed and wild.
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