I pass by the running river
like a mist moving across the bank
into sunlight.
Vanity of vanities
we all recognize from the King James,
but that’s a rather invasive translation
of what the Hebrew literally says—
Vapor of vapors, all is vapor.
It’s an observation—something
we all notice to varying degrees,
and it’s a lament—something
we’re not at all happy about.
So how is it that when we hear it
we find it beautiful?
