
“We wake if we ever wake at all, to mystery, to rumours of death, beauty, violence ….” Annie Dillard
Failing To See When did mystery become anxious that it needed something by way of self-denial to be acceptable, and who decided to strip you naked that we might see you clearly through the murky mist of time, and ponder your meanings. Did we need to break down your door, claiming your space as our own, becoming so familiar as to have no illusions, failing to see how our thirst for certainty becomes a cabinet filled with conclusions which has emptied us of longing. ©Paul Vincent Cannon