Circle upon circle spiral over spiral each day turns and the moon follows her cycle and the earth rotates unfolding a life. This dawn light this October air this April sun are all familiar, but not quite. The familiar tempts me to not look because I think I already see. The ordinary tempts me to not wonder because I think I already know. The simple tempts me to not listen because I think I already hear. But this blush moment of being which cradles me like home is at once a vast horizon of unknowing. May I remember not to know as the days unspool one upon another so alike I overlook their singular amazement.