It’s believing that answers are right here inside
and out, unlit candles, waiting for perception’s spark
from flint, Cassandra-like, wanting us to listen.
We may have to trust first, writing spirals around,
or ride into presence, even through discontent,
through winter, long past heartbreak and loss.
Stafford’s three words, “lower your standards,”
produced many published works and guidance
for me and you when we’ve forgotten our names.