"De do do do de da da da
They're meaningless and all that's true"
I've never been an intellectual.
A man once said I was "lightly touched," then poof- he disapeared around the corner hedge row beside Mrs. Johnson's house. I smiled thinking myself lucky that he didn't pull a fresh switch off that trampled bush we had climbed out of, soot covered and full of summer sweat. Cause I knew that was a pearl he had just given instead- one I would continue to gather from many over the years.
Though even at the age of 46, I do not have a full strand by now. You see, gems are to be shared and at the right moment. They must never be squandered nor hoarded as little precious things. Lest their lustre shine so bright that one cannot see the light of day for their own misbegotten sun. One must not be a regular jeweler of fine gems, but a cultivator of pearls.
Think not of Gollum, but of Taran of Caer Dallben, Camus' Sisyphus, Dr. Pangloss, Mount Analogue, the Wizard of Oz, Santiago, Don Juan, and Siddartha. Each is enlightening and full of gems. Even Dorothy's ruby slippers were shared by Glenda the Good Witch for only the time necessary to do their job, to serve their purpose.
Putting on a jacket in a rush to work, I got into my IM this morning and quickly came upon a neighbor who waved and asked in passing, "Are you the Mad Hatter?" I smiled at her whimsy. And just as the radio began some forgotten song, it dawned on me why I put a jacket on this bright sunny day.