It makes sense to me now, that it would take thousands of minutes, days, weeks, subtle shifts, the shedding of fur and feather, the realigning of genes, the folding of gill into lung, to achieve an evolutionary masterpiece capable of setting a food onto shore.
The circumstances of this year have not been this way, meandering like sands in an hour glass or waves in a lazy river. There has been no time to dawdle, to wait for perfection, to take the test drive. This evolution was urgent, an alarm bell, a midnight flight with wings still wet.
I’m still not sure if this evolution is complete. I have these new limbs I don’t know how to use. I’m not the colt born knowing how to gallop.
Their strangeness is both terrifying and beautiful to me.
...but, you know that magic, the way you hold your breath when you see a colt stand up and you don't know how it will go, and you see those wobbling legs and you hope? And you know how just at that moment that you are seeing something so much bigger than anyone can say?
Well then.
Posted by: Kim | November 22, 2011 at 09:02 PM
When the wobbliness is out of the legs, look, see, watch that colt run like the wind, as will you, my dear.
Posted by: Tracy Mangold | November 23, 2011 at 05:47 PM
@Kim and @Tracy ... thank you so much for your words and your assurance! I do feel like 2012 is perched on deep breaths and wobbling legs and a little bit of hope.
Posted by: Noel | November 28, 2011 at 03:49 PM