Being propelled toward 50-year-old-ness, these first fluctuations of virtual redux are fearful.
I am now a morula. 16 cells. The zygote's last stand. Morula, Latin for mulberry.
Remember that tree they cut down in front of the girls' kindergarten classroom? That tree from which silk worms will eat? The children are twenty something now, yet their special tree is no more. Some silk moths somewhere are in lament, learning with me that life is one fluctuation after another, one disappointment and frustration after another. Weather them well, and fruit appears. What the BioDome failed to appreciate, we know instinctively: [>Bleep<] happens, growth occurs. Composting in a nutshell.
I wish I could say this truth is internalized. Sadly, my compost is an anerobic mess. Smells bad. But all is not lost. In the next seven months, good things may come.
I am waiting.
I am now a morula. 16 cells. The zygote's last stand. Morula, Latin for mulberry.
Remember that tree they cut down in front of the girls' kindergarten classroom? That tree from which silk worms will eat? The children are twenty something now, yet their special tree is no more. Some silk moths somewhere are in lament, learning with me that life is one fluctuation after another, one disappointment and frustration after another. Weather them well, and fruit appears. What the BioDome failed to appreciate, we know instinctively: [>Bleep<] happens, growth occurs. Composting in a nutshell.
I wish I could say this truth is internalized. Sadly, my compost is an anerobic mess. Smells bad. But all is not lost. In the next seven months, good things may come.
I am waiting.
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