Fruitless efforts and bountiful harvests

Overnight our lives transform while we slumber in obscurity. Why? Because in a one final desperate exaltation of energy before the day closed, we called out one more time into the void. And someone answered. There are worlds behind the locked doors we never knock on and we’ll never see them when we go looking for one that’s already ajar.

I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before that if you upturn the rocks before you, wonderful things spill out. I can’t imagine being the person I was before I knew this magic existed. The person who resolved herself to wandering quiet corridors, to hoping that something might appear before me where prior there was nothing. 

How blind we must seem to the forces around us. Clumsily making heads or tales of life and missing all the small things glistening from hidden corners. We laugh as our dogs chase their tails and then we go out and make fruitless efforts hoping for bountiful harvests.

I wonder how this will change me, how it will affect the way I travel through the day. Perhaps I have lost irreparably the ability to see the way I used to. Perhaps it doesn’t matter. I feel like I’ve become able to speak in color and see in sounds.

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