Saturday, July 30, 2005

A Fair Intoxicant

July 17, 2005

I long to know the name of those sweet birds
that skim the waters of the reservoir.
No reason can I see except delight
when so meek a creature interrupts his flight
to test the measure of causation
entailed within a life so slight.
And yet, the glory of the moment
when the ripples set to motion
seems a fair intoxicant for one of his measure.

And I rise to find a smooth, flat stone
to skip across the reservoir;
make some ripples of my own...

A fair intoxicant for one of my measure.

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George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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