[Audio post; excerpt from A Prairie Home Companion, 1 minute 38 seconds.]
This post fits into the “pointing to other people’s stuff” box. I heard this on the way home from Austin the other day, and the words made a great deal of sense to me.
—
The Slim Fir Seeds
Poem by Robert Bly
The nimble oven bird, the dignity of pears,
The simplicity of oars, the imperishable
Engines inside slim fir-seeds, all of these
Hint how much we long for the impermanent
To be permanent. We want the hermit wren
To keep her eggs even during the Storm;
We want eternal oceans. But we are perishable;
Friends, we are salty, impermanent kingdoms.
