I sing of hemlocks whispering mysteries,
Of meadows green with promise,
Of lakes with secrets,
Of mountain peaks in touch with eternity,
Of solitude filled with murmurings we can never quite hear,
Of presences that hover just beyond the edge of perception,
Of meanings etched in snow, transcribed with wings;
I sing the truth
Of hidden things.
~ from THE ART OF BEVERLY DOOLITTLE by Elise MacLay and Bev Doolittle
Have you also learned that secret from the river — that there is no such thing as time? ...the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the water-fall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere, and...the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past, nor the shadow of the future.
