this view, lying w Aaf in London, passing time before the train
it hadn’t crossed my mind in >2 years
but BOOM, there it came. like I had read it yesterday
not verbatim but the idea. the feeling
had to look it up
Sometimes I spend all day trying to count leaves on a single tree. To do this I have to climb branch by branch and write down the numbers in a little book. So I suppose, from their point of view it’s reasonable that my friends say: what foolishness! She’s got her head in the clouds again!
But it’s not. Of course I have to give up, but by then I am half crazy with the wonder of it – the abundance of the leaves, the quietness of the branches, the hopelessness of my effort. And I am in that delicious and important place, roaring with laughter, full of earth-praise.
“Foolishness? No, It’s Not”
is the mind not a wondrous thing?