I’ve logged more experience than most with simplicity and the complexity you discover inside simplicity, minimalism and asocial behavior, endurance and landscape.
Here is the truth: I think some deep wisdom inside me (a) sensed the stress, (b) was terrified for me, and (c) gave me something new and hard to focus on in order to prevent me from lapsing into a despair coma — and also to keep me from having a jelly jar of wine in my hand.
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But the deadly and the violent days,
how do you undergo them, take them in?
— Rainer Maria Rilke
When we can’t speak, I follow you
to the dried-up pond:
bowl of what was once a pond,
floor of straw pressed into mud,
lines on an ancient palm which cups us,
reeds and grasses at its edges
swaying toward us through noon heat —
heat like another skin which holds us,
bound and faintly glistening,
as if we contained the disappeared water.
We bend to touch the bottoms
of the broken stalks,
every tiny torn-down room,
every place the grass is flattened,
where the deer have lain;
we trace their vanished bodies with our hands.
Ruth L. Schwartz