Tonight I sat outside with the light of the almost full Strawberry moon. Creatures scurried around in the ivy below the deck.
I thought of the words of Hafiz:
What does light talk about?
I asked a plant that once,
It said, “I am not sure,
but it makes me
Grow”.
That brought me to the words of Annie Dillard in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek:
I cannot cause light; the most I can do is try to put myself in the path of its beam. It is possible, in deep space, to sail on solar wind. Light, be it particle or wave, has force: you rig a giant sail and go. The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff.
And then I came to the words of Nelson Mandela:
It is never my custom to use words lightly. If twenty-seven years in prison have done anything to us, it was to use the silence of solitude to make us understand how precious words are and how real speech is in its impact on the way people live and die.


























