Back home.
In
the very early morning, say 4 a.m., there are very tiny sounds, slight but
filling the entire forest. It is not
just sound but a rhythm, a faint symphony of small things singing. One of my greatest wishes is to have each
living thing that is singing lined up so that I could know each one, to see it
and wonder at it and then have all of them hush and allow them individually to make
their sound. Afterwards, as the ultimate
wish, have them sing together as this morning so that I, a living thing that
cannot sing, could applaud each one of these precious little, living, singing
things.
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