I owe my “I am-ness” to the Stranger. That existence undefined and uncontrollable. The next unpredictable. The Stranger. Those ancestors in my blood, those that are not, and those in future unknown. Next in the grocery line and yet unseen around the corner. The Stranger. Those at body birth, continuance of essence, and those at the shift to the next stage. One that turns left or right on the journey shared and those that see clearly enough to share within and without. The Stranger. Those that smile at you on the trail, become a part of you. The Stranger. The constantly undefined thoughts rarely finished and the exploration and discovery of a fingernail-size frog. Those that choose wisely and those who are well intended. The Stranger. So precious. Those that save my breathing body every day. Those that go unrecognized and unseen, but that are always there. The Stranger. To be met today or tomorrow. The divine. The divine. Wherever it’s found. Those never known or family eternal. So precious, the Stranger. I owe my being to the Stranger. I weep at the not knowing, the lack of control, encompassing the Stranger. I embrace the ever-growing glow of gratefulness for the Stranger. Remember, remember, to keep and hold it for the Stranger. Those that are within and without but not yet discovered. Ever elusiveness but everywhere and all for eternity. God how I love this undefined community of Strangers. Wonderful and gut punching at the same time. All around. All the time. All but no one. You. Me. Them. All in the Stranger. I owe my “I am-ness” to the Stranger.
—Keith Knapp, friend of Prairiewoods