[And isn’t everything risk?]

16 March 2026:

Perfect poem for a solitary, Big Thoughts day. Grateful for Gregory Orr's work.

"And isn’t everything risk?

The beloved lives
Then dies,
Then (if we’re lucky)
Rises again 

Into a poem or song

Or into the world
In some other form
Impossible to predict.

Simplest story, oldest tale: 

Sparrows sing it
From every hedge;
And swallows, also,
From their nests on the ledge." 

That there's a tornado watch in effect also feels appropriate as the weather outside veers from bright sun to storms and back again.