If you want it: learn to recognize what is good. 
Find it in a teal sofa, under the jacaranda, or 
inside a buttery bowl of mussels. Don't fill 
the quiet, then feel that there's nothing 
left to fill. Hold close but loose the records, 
the wreckage. Remember the squishiness of 
flesh and the tiny sprouts of hair and how the 
babies giggle, like they recognize the silliness 
in furniture and flowers and shellfish.