Life flows at four speeds, four gaits.
I walk, I trot, I lope, I gallop.
I gallop now, sucking wind, not slowing even when the earth pitches
itself into a hill beneath my feet.
Soon, I’ll slow down to a walk, breathe deeply,
there will be stillness even when I find myself moving.
Even now, despite the speed, there are sunsets,
full moons to set me glowing,
a fine, pale, dust shimmering there on my fingertips,
a distant howl, the new lengths of the days,
the steady creep of water under ice.
There are these things.
I found this excerpt on a blog post from The Noisy Plume. Check out her site if you’ve never heard of her before. Excellent. Excellent. Excellent. There is so much goodness here. I find myself coming back day after day—reading all I can, like a bird to the feeder. Inspiring and nourishing to say the least.