Some evenings, and sunrises, the air is just perfect, and the light shines off the leaves of trees, that are moving gently in the breeze, and I get this sensation, that I sometimes call “mystery”. Something is there, but I can only feel it. It is hiding, but feels like someone I have loved forever, and who has loved me forever, giggling unseen behind a bush, or perhaps floating somewhere in the air.
I mention this, because this is something worth catching. For me, it seems to follow long, hard work, fear, anxiety and the like. Then quiet.
To have the peace without the storm would be like living in California, and we can all see where that has led. Sorry, couldn’t resist. I have in fact lived in California, for what it is worth.
Can one mock the sublime? I think not: it is immune to irony and contradiction. It is merely often ignored. That is the fate of heaven.
For their part, I think angels can plainly see how stupid we all are, and yet still wait for us.
I’m in a remarkably good mood. I don’t know why. But, really, is there RATIONAL exuberance? By definition, you have left the lines, at least as I see it.
Few wandering thoughts, that can’t even cross from A to B, but which perhaps might lend some color to the ones that do.
See, I find that funny. I am a quirky sort, and no one who knows me can fail to see it. Still, I have fun.