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43 that good triumphs in the end, but you can not know the end if you do not believe there can be prophecy in rocks, the book you are reading, the dream you will forget if you are not attentive to the blue well of the morning glory, the stone wall, the scattered pile of lumber for something familiar: a gesture, a whisper, a flutter of wings that must be someone you loved perhaps hanging laundry on the backyard line. Courier Owl You will never see this bird if you have not been smacked by death, stomped stupid by loss if you do not believe that messages can pass from one dimension to another, one world to another, breath by breath if you do not believe her presence is in the fox flash or that he can be with you in the curtain of rain if you do not believe we are more than our bodies, that these bodies simply ferry us from one truth to the next if you do not believe ...

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