To a friend of Wisdom, a friend who showed me “The Great Health”: the dog with a wounded leg,
It's a painful reminder of mortality when we lose a friend, and especially a "pet" like any other. But looking past that and seeing the line of flight that death creates (like a shadow we had been sheltering): freedom in one sense, "the end" in another sense: the magic of nature is precisely an awakening at their departure--one that this being that I have never completely known creates for himself, within himself, escaping from us, finally returning. Returning to where? To the infinite? No, beyond that eternal horizon...to which I can only say:
Goodbye, Bear,
You were the toughest among us
Good!
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