If you want to know something, go elsewhere. If you want to unknow everything, then sit and listen.

Somewhere else, it already is snowing.
Even here, there is snow up high.

And tonight at the dinner table,
for the first time my daughter apologized

with an r-less version of “sorry.”
And just like that, she shifted her world

toward responsibility, toward stewardship,
toward caring about who does what to whom.

And in the pond, three river otters
frolicked and floated on their backs.

These events are apparently not related,
but I’ve stopped believing that.

Our story is already full of miracles.
We don’t see the invisible threads,

only feel them sometimes as they slip
through the dark, through our grasping hands,


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