winging from good fortune the battered albatross finds rest again
once strong-winged the battered albatross finds strength again
Recently I encountered beauty, and lingered longer than I should have. Wonder faded a little, and though still beautiful I wondered if I would ever again feel, as a boulder above the sea in storm, the tides of wonder and joy and love I felt rush over me, through me, when I found it for the first time. I lost my faith, and fell into despair. But then, when even this had waned, and a melancholy that was its echo lay over me, I stumbled in the dark, and once again found beauty. And once again, that same tide of impossible joy and wonder and near worshipful adoration crashed over me. And it was in almost inexpressible gratitude that I rejoiced for my foolishness.