I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope,
for hope would be hope for the wrong thing.
And wait without love. For love would be love,
of the wrong thing.
Yet there is faith.
But the faith and the hope and the love, are all in the waiting.
And the darkness shall be the light
and the stillness the dancing.
Enough. These few words are enough.
If not these words, this breath.
If not this breath, this sitting here.
This opening to the life
we have refused
again and again
We are looking forward to heading down the shore soon. Not only is it a relaxing time away–a much needed break, but I always enjoy experiencing it through the eyes of my children. My 7-year-old just wrote his first poem, and it’s very timely:
Beautiful sunsets make
me tired, and crashing
waves are very fun,
and playing brings a rush,
wishing I never left,
and making sandcastles