Deep in the forest there was a sacred turd containing the entire universe.
Walking in the woods, contemplating the notion that each individual thing somehow contains the whole, I kicked over a dried elk turd. Aha! Here was Blake’s “Grain of Sand,” his “Wild Flower,” the infinite in the ordinary. While I preferred not holding the turd “in the palm of my hand,” I did grasp the message. Auspicious Elk Turd is the result.