Tomorrow the morning will arrive as it always does, eating the last vestiges of night, painting the sky in puce and crimson. It will foretell the rain that will carry our dreams down the hill and into storm sewers, eventually to wash into the lake. But in that moment when the sky is ablaze, none of that matters, save the beauty of dawn.
I stumbled in love with you, she said because I’ve always had this great fear of falling. It must come from my childhood, though I can’t recall any specific incident, just the deep bruises my parents left when they fell, without warning out of the love I thought had to last forever.
Space is not the final frontier of that I’m certain nor was Debussy right, though some does live between the notes, nor do I want more, what I have will suffice. No space is the damned key on this keyboard that sometimes sticks anddrivesmetodistraction.
Strangely enough I can imagine Segasa Tokugawa standing on the parapet of Osaka Castle saying only a fool like Toyotomi either father or son would wage a war on Korea to expand his empire and stand here and say mission accomplished while so many at home mourned the loss of sons or innocence, or both but things will be better now for I have learned the lesson of history.
There is certainly a reason, though in the time it will take us to find it, we likely will no longer care. The easy things so rarely matter, and we turn our backs on them hardly thinking, only to regret it when they slip away, and only then does their value appear.
I laughed at my parents when they talked about a typewriter as something of a marvel when they were so commonplace. Of course as a boy, half the fun of helping my father at work was knowing the mimeo ink would stain my fingers purple for a week and even borax would only render them lilac. And the wet process copier with the pink tissue paper sheets seemed utterly remarkable. 10 rem Then I found the computer 20 rem and I could make a machine 30 rem actually do my will return without gosub. Now it seems so archaic as I look back at my own life all the while transferring 180 jazz albums to the thumb drive I will put in the car. What would Stanley Turrentine have thought of all this.
All things are born and die so if this world dies at the end of its cycle of life and we are here, do we die with this world and which of us will be first reborn. Only when the mind collapses is the world born only when the mind collapses does the world die.
A reflection on Case 24 of the True Dharma Eye (Shobogenzo)
The epiphany comes, he says with a smile, when you first discover the puzzle within the puzzle and the hidden logic finally triumphs. It is always there, she notes, right in the title as clear to the eyes as the nose on the face of armless man who has no mirrors.