William Blake was a mystic and a poet. I think about his famous phrase when i gaze into a flower..deeply seeing the folds, like some amazing origami only nature can create…my walks  take me to many streets with gardens lovingly grown and tended by folks i will never meet;their gifts to me their roses, iris, daisies, buttercups, an overabundance of flowers  i cannot name but revel in…my heart is full, my eyes hungry to drink in the hues, shadings of color that no camera can capture.

When i was a teenager and depressed I couldn’t always see the beauty around me; today, older and i like to think, wiser, i reach down to touch a velvety rose petal and feel my connection to the myriad ways the Divine expresses itself on Planet E; i want to reach back and tell that depressed teen that life doesn’t just “get better” it becomes suffused with joy amidst the sorrow.

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