I wonder how wonder watches us?

From where?

I wonder why wonder withers when without warmth?

We have to water it.

And sometimes it springs upon us, unexpected.


We wish for wonder when we are weighted by the world without sight of the breath or the next light at the end of this tunnel.

We waver, wondering if we are worth watering, if we are worth wishing.

Wonder never wonders that. It knows.

We are.

The view from a bench in the park by my house the day that I got out of isolation after having covid.
The wonder at being out in the world again.

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