Happy is the one who walks otherwise, than in the manner of the heedless, say the Psalms.

Who stands otherwise

than in the way of the twisted

Who does not sit in the seat of the scornful

But finds delight in the loveliness of things

And lives by that pattern all day and night –

Not so the heedless

They are like chaff scattered by the wind

Endlessly driven, they cannot occupy their place

And so can never be joined.

What you see is always lovely and remembered. But the way of the heedless is oblivion.

So this, then is the choice for me. To be endlessly driven by the worries and dangers and darkness of the world.

Or to delight in the loveliness of things. The meaning of a tear.  The beauty of a snowfall.  The soft sighs of a forest. The warm touch of a donkey’s nose. The love of a dog. The warmth of a friend. A courtesy extended. Or received. A person encouraged. The loveliness of things.