Harbingers
By Michael Erlewine
Stepping beyond where others go. Actually, that is not technically correct. I am still right where I am and always have been. What once was a main road has now become a side street, and perhaps even the equivalent of a country road or a simple path.
The busyness of busyness creates its own road. I’m just not on it any longer. The way to become like me is no longer obvious. What makes up my personality appears more unique than it did only a few decades ago. I am being odd-man outed.
And I have lost or am losing any ‘come-hither-ness’ I may have once had. I don’t care. Am I a vigil fire, a light in the dark far out on an unbeaten path, it is hard to say.
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I see elders, other old people like me shining brightly and I see that they see me. We can see one another and are harbingers of rebirth still lingering in this world.
[Midjourney graphic prompted by me.]
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As Bodhicitta is so precious,
May those without it now create it,
May those who have it not destroy it,
And may it ever grow and flourish.
