A certain feeling visits me today.
I remember it from my childhood.
It is the feeling of looking out on the world in silence,
And seeing everything just how it appears,
Without interpretation.
And you would think that the sentiment
Would be neutral, but it’s not.
There is a warm and definite sense
Of everything being just right,
As if existence itself
Has a favorable opinion of itself.
But strangely, it’s not perfect.
The flaws are more pronounced.
And that’s part of what makes it beautiful.
And that makes me wonder
If the things we think are right
Are not necessarily right.
Perhaps reality is right
If we see it through child’s eyes.
And perhaps, the more we see it that way
The more we’ll be in keeping
With the true perception,
The rightest perception.
Perhaps then, we’ll be less likely
To try to force the world into the image
Of the thing we want it to be.
And that seems right.
