By madowoi

Peeking In

Little soul,
you have wandered
lost a long time.

The woods all dark now,
birded and eyed.

Then a light, a cabin, a fire, a door standing open.

The fairy tales warn you:
Do not go in,
you who would eat will be eaten.

You go in. You quicken.

You want to have feet.
You want to have eyes.
You want to have fears.

Amor Fati, by Jane Hirshfield

At work today I overheard a colleague tell a child, "No, you are not allowed to do that right now," and the child quickly replied, "But what if I do?" 

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