Thursday, July 29, 2021

I have walked through brambles and wasteland to come here, yet you have left me untouched.

So, too, has ecstasy descended upon me, yet my pace is moderate.

This simple path, strewn with rocks yet looping through alpine shade, stretches from yesterday into tomorrow.

Today comes a judge, and I blink with equanimity.

The world is not the world. Thank you for this path of trials and miracles.

They will be done.

(Letter #2,392)