When great trees fall,

rocks on distant hills shudder,

lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber

after safety. When great trees fall in forests, small things recoil

into silence, their senses eroded beyond fear. When great souls die,

the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile. We breathe, briefly.

Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity. Our memory,

suddenly sharpened, examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid,

promised walks never taken. Great souls die and our reality,

bound to them, takes leave of us. Our souls, dependent upon

their nurture, now shrink, wizened.Our minds, formed and informed

by their radiance, fall away. We are not so much maddened as reduced

to the unutterable ignorance of dark, cold caves. And when great souls

die, after a period, peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly.

Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses,

restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed.

They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.

~Maya Angelou

oh, so now we really have to see clearly and act soundly…

inquiry for today~ somewhere, somehow, and with grace…..

how can you see?

“Today was a Difficult Day,” said Pooh.There was a pause.”Do you want to talk about it?” asked Piglet.”No,” said Pooh after a bit. “No, I don’t think I do.””That’s okay,” said Piglet, and he came and sat beside his friend.”What are you doing?” asked Pooh.”Nothing, really,” said Piglet. “Only, I know what Difficult Days are like. I quite often don’t feel like talking about it on my Difficult Days either.

“But goodness,” continued Piglet, “Difficult Days are so much easier when you know you’ve got someone there for you. And I’ll always be here for you, Pooh.”And as Pooh sat there, working through in his head his Difficult Day, while the solid, reliable Piglet sat next to him quietly, swinging his little legs…he thought that his best friend had never been more right.”

~A.A. Milne