Wonder

is the world’s most precious renewable energy. It’s the twinkling microsecond we all carry somewhere inside — the uncontained yes, each time we dare something new, each time we trust joy enough to jump — knees bent, hair falling back, the stretch of fingers, that reckless trust in the invisible, like a stone cracking the winter shell of a long-nerveless lake — the interview, the speech, the kiss, the divorce, the first footprints, those vestiges of infant courage, that tender courtesy to fail and still be adored, to declare with erupting bliss: I’m here! I’m more than you expect. Nothing dims this. Nothing crowds this. It stands alone, unmasked, a body declaring itself worthy of the future anyway.