April snow. / God is waiting in the garden. / Slow as a blush,
snow shifts and settles on God. / On God’s bouquet. / The trees are white nerve nets.
“
The Lord was trying out some material.
I AM WHO I AM, He said.
It didn’t sound right.
THAT’S WHO I AM. I AM.
It sounded ridiculous.
He didn’t favor definitions.
He’d always had the most frightful difficulties with them.
Joy Williams | “Essential Enough”
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