"As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame; / [ . . . ] Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: / Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; / Selves -- goes itself; 'myself' it speaks and spells, / Crying 'What I do is me; for that I came'." --Gerard Manley Hopkins

24 January 2008

Pearls of Hope

As I drove down the old ferry road this morning, my thoughts mirrored the lowering clouds which threaten yet another day of cold gloom: the imminent death of someone I love deeply, the tiredness created by a new semester and the attendant lack of decent sleep, that inner darkness nipping at the edges of the mind, certain fears of the uncontrollable . . . Then I reached the highway and looked west to check for traffic.

There, in a rare breach in the clouds, shone Phoebe at the full, startling me with her pearl warmth and once again lifting my heart to hope.

By the time I reached campus, she had disappeared again, but my search for her brought my eyes to the star shining in another breach just above the student center, a sight I would certainly have otherwise missed.

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