We remember the past

It's been a long sprint. Years of trial, but an equal amount of joy. And as the sun lightens the contours of her face, her age is peeled back and there lies the bareness of her youth. The light breeze flips her white, gray hair out away from her face. She breaks the silence, "You can hear the river, can't you?" Just then my wondering mind is drawn back to the presence of this woman. You hear the birds, don't you? What about the lawn mower down the street? The sprinklers next door? Or the bees in the garden? You hear it all, don't you, or don't you? How fast our time may come, when we can't hear and see the beauty around us. Maybe this is why we spend our lives learning to trust, so in the end we will trust the mystery we once knew to be certain.


Comments

  1. ohh this is so good...but also makes me sad.
    beautifully put

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yes. And yes. I like it when you write like this. I like the other stuff too.

    ReplyDelete

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