… And under the trees, beyond time´s brittle drift, I stood like Adam in his lonely garden On that first morning, shaken out of sleep, Rubbing his eyes, listening, parting the leaves, Like tissue on some vast incredible gift. – Mary Oliver, Morning in a New Land Mary Oliver, American poet and my soul mentor, crossed the threshold yesterday Between the Worlds. Sunset has some deeper meaning for me. I cannot quite grasp it or capture it in words. Not yet. „What is worthy of the moments and sunrises ahead?“, I asked the old cherry tree in the vineyard. It did not blossom last year. Who else remembers the orgy…