Saturday, February 9, 2013

Eine kleine Nachtmusik

What becomes of us after the sweet incantations of our youth are gone? Do we turn to dust? Or do we grow on?

I spent the night in the woods alone. You'd think it would have been scary, but I saw things more clearly than I ever had before. Everything slowed down--there was not another human soul around to tell it to hurry.

I fell asleep to the whispers of the night: the quiet dream-breathing of the deer, and the fragrance of jasmine. I reposed on a bed of leaves and looked up at the moon and the stars.

And I knew--I knew--that God had written us into this story.

No comments:

Post a Comment