Certainly we may be carrying suitcases and bricks. But most of the baggage is in the lumber room of our minds; regrets and might-have-beens from the past; anticipations, worries and fears about the future; and the entanglements of our present lives; relationships, mortgages, bank balance, our decaying bodies. Like jugglers, we wrestle with what is already in flight:
The Juggler throws
his batons at the sun.
The sky throws them back again
like rain,
each and every one.
Surely by now he knows
what it is he’s gaining?
Come Mr. Juggler,
look at it from your point of view,
just how long has it been raining?
On you?
look at it from your point of view,
just how long has it been raining?
On you?
yet cannot resist picking up more. His penance will continue until - Journey's End
when all batons
lie still upon the ground
and of the Juggler
no residue is found.
NEW PROJECT: THE FOX KNOWS MANY THINGS. THE HEDGEHOG KNOWS ONE BIG THING.
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