A prairie warbler’s song circles higher and higher. A motionless dragonfly dries its wings in the sun, and I become translucent, like wings, like a song rising within the air.
Why we need these opening acts to see into our soul I do not know. Perhaps two lives cannot exist in the same moment in the mind of God. Perhaps there are innumerable gods and countless millions of moments.
Perhaps the warbler’s song and dragonfly’s wings are as empty of self as this moment, and this moment is even empty of God.