Migrations, Volume III

There were all these maddening permutations of what could be that were not to be ignored....Yet, there was also a stunning beauty to all of this that was so profound that one could not help but love every facet of every conceivability, whether realized or beyond reach. There was so much to capture even in stillness that was akin to grasping at grains of sand so fine as to elude the grip-it was all so intricate, so overwhelming and so rapid, and nothing ever ceased in its glorious transformation...There was an exhilaration in being engrossed in the details that evaded capture and in being oneself ensconced in constant flux so as to surrender without recourse to what was to come...There is no instance that ever becomes the destination, no circumstance the definitive possibility, and one, for that very fact, could scarcely help but be filled with a heartening love for all of creation...The Moment, after all, was Always and thus there was no 'before,' no instance preceding the instance.