February 10 (THE FERO REPORT)
The world means little to nothing without the relations we carry on between one another and our teachers. In a world where the most accepted, and honest, response might be I don’t know, here is a poem titled “Mysteries” by Dennis Sampson.
In the evening when the geese fly, when the streetlights come on, there whispers
an ancient breeze–a worn creed. It is the mystery of a dogwood tree
just out of the reach of reason to someone accustomed
to the logic of a life. It is what hangs in the balance
during that first hour of the night when silence blackens all
of Galilee. Gone, as it is suddenly received.
Like you I move in a dream.
From: Within the Shadow of a Man, Dennis Sampson