In my recent travels I passed a fox lying dead by the roadside and felt compelled to turn back. For a time, I considered keeping him as he was perfect. Instead I carried him a few exits north until I spotted a lovely open area. I sat beside him in a South Georgia field of greens that had gone to flower. I arranged him on a bed of yellow petals and left him, Indian burial style, for the scavengers. In my grieving moment with the fox, I could not have felt a greater love for anything living or dead.
Did I tell you I am getting bees this year?
If you like this illustration and haven't figured out what you are going to give your sweetheart for Valentine's day, you might like my "Valentine Card Service" where I personalize and mail this card, in a tricked-out glittery wonderful way, to your valentine. And if you're into economy and vintage I've got a free download of the good stuff here.
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.