The cherry knows, the oak, the pine, the walnut; the shore, the tide, the moon; all embody the art of taking the long view, and each is a stirring example of how to live and let live. Whatever comes, goes; whatever rises, falls; whatever breathes, thrives for a time, then dies. The sun burns away. The storm ends. The ones we hated, condemned, and feared go crying to their graves, bringing their emptiness and loneliness to an end. And we go, and in so going, we become part of the long view, from dinosaur to Neanderthal, from Anglo-Saxon to King James, from Leonardo to Montaigne. The little bird, splashing in the bath — why should she be wiser than we? The little child, whose light shines on everything in its ken — why do we turn away from such profound teaching? Another spring; on the hill, the cherry blossoms fall. There is deep, dense moss on the shrine.
~
[ 1951 ]
Categories: Someone Will Say
Tags: Anglo-Saxon, Birds, Cherry Blossoms, Death, Dinosaurs, Emptiness, King James, Leonardo, Life, Little Children, Loneliness, Montaigne, Moss, Neanderthals, Oaks, Pines, Spring, The Long View, The Moon, The Tides, Walnuts, Wisdom
William Michaelian 