wandering star don't let the dust fool you, it's always the view from afar that sees spectacle in your mess -- but isn't that what the beauty of life is? the perspective from here, behind a telescope lens you shimmer and dazzle sweet sprinkles the kinds that make candy of the soul glazed window into the heavens the lens is specked with colours unseen peacock flume, your wispy arms scarlet, crimson ultra violet waltz, pink pearl cotton atmosphere amid your shakeless pirouette a green only known as life what would you be on earth i cannot say only that you are what the robins and bees prefer
Found this on (yet again) Tamarack Song’s blog Mongrel Scratchings:
I just read about a man who had a flower garden that he continually improved by pulling out the plain-looking specimens and throwing them in the garbage. One day while he was out walking, he passed by a flower garden more beautiful than is. Wracked with jealousy, he asked the gardener were she got her plants. She told him she was his garbage collector.
There’s more to the post that is very worth reading, but the power and the accuracy of these words are so overwhelming that I needed to share it.