The day begins with invitation; someone holds the key to unlock doors that open wide upon a hallway full of doors that lead beyond the space of what I see around me, and what I understand and think I can depend upon. But seeking often leads back to a starting point, and circles around the pathways lit by stars. I have the travel guides and fingertipped the maps from here to there–not where it ends, but where a weary traveler stops but for a night.
And with each invitation, each journey that one takes, floating on a floor of milky ways and dippers can and should become the norm.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology