Again I'm suffering from writer's block. The delete button on the computer has never gotten such a work out. It's not from lack of inspiration, that is everywhere. Perhaps because language is so restricting and unsatisfying.
I want you to be with me when I drive through McDonald's before sunrise and get teary when the warm air, fragrant with brewing coffee and toasting English muffins wafts across my face.
I want you to be there when "Touch" is over so we can talk about the " invisible red thread that connects those who are destined to meet regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break." (Chinese Proverb).
I want you to know, without being told, how necessary moments of despair are, and how each gives me a deeper appreciation for the moments of joy.
I want to touch your hand and see you smile and know without needing words that we are still sharing, remembering, connecting. I say that I want what I know that I already have and when I'm quiet and sit in the lingering light, the stillness reassures me that everything is exactly as it is supposed to be, and I am grateful.
I read yesterday...
An oak reaches for the light
Anchored in the dark.
