this only

Indian scops owl, Nagpur, Maharashtra, India. photo: Digvijay Lande 2017

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Everything is connected. The wing of the corn beetle affects the direction of the wind, the way the sand drifts, the way the light reflects into the eye of man beholding his reality. 

All is part of totality, and in this totality man finds his hozro, his way of walking in harmony, with beauty all around him.

—Tony Hillerman
The Ghostway

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A valley and above it forests in autumn colors.
A voyager arrives, a map led him here. 

Or perhaps memory. Once, long ago, in the sun,
When the first snow fell, riding this way
He felt joy, strong, without reason,
Joy of the eyes. Everything was the rhythm
Of shifting trees, of a bird in flight,
Of a train on the viaduct, a feast of motion. 

He returns years later, has no demands.
He wants only one, most precious thing:
To see, purely and simply, without name,
Without expectations, fears, or hopes,
At the edge where there is no I or not-I.

—Czesław Miłosz

This Only
Robert Hass version

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thank you

wait - what ?

whiskeyriver

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