“And then-- there is is a profit in all things for anyone really in search of it.”
-- Albert Camus (11/22/1937), from Notebooks, 1935-1942
Some days seem far removed
from any wonder or miracle,
too much trash and paperwork,
too many aches and pains,
and you might wish, vainly,
that such time would vanish,
erased from the calendar,
hours you did not need--
and yet, you’d be wrong.
Somewhere, in some corner
there is a glimpse or a thought
unknown to any other day,
one waiting for you to stumble
into its illumination,
some discovery which will send you
in the direction of tomorow
with that best of all possible feelings,
some great task accomplished.
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