it will not be simple, it will not be long
it will take little time, it will take all your thought
it will take all your heart, it will take all your breath
it will be short, it will not be simple.
America, tonight I leave you.
I want to leave you in joy and peace and eloquence, but you have filled me up with words which are not fully formed. They fall from me in spurts, blurted, wild. I am grotesque in my incompleteness. I wasn’t always this way.
Here I made a home, in all its wholeness, and while I built it I forgot the mantra I should have kept close. I didn’t come to stay. Maya’s shield, my shield. I forgot, and fell in love.
“The redwoods, once seen, leave a mark or create a vision that stays with you always. No one has ever successfully painted or photographed a redwood tree. The feeling they produce is not transferable. From them comes silence and awe. […] [T]hey are ambassadors from another time.”