Kind, Wild, Friend

“August 25th,” she said and thought breathlessly, searching for wisdom and a pen. “I have called you friends.” Joy…surrender…eyes on Him. Yes, all wise mortar for new Life. 

Onto love. It doesn’t matter the date, love “Is.” Daily. Lasts only a moment, but exists in each moment. Thanks, god. Her method today: seek it upside down and backward. Flip with eyes closed through its intentionally silky pages and choose the one just after the most proud. Turn it up-side-up and look to your right. There he is. Talking about wild again. Blurred, inked wild. Yes, this is only love. 

Truth?  She knows so. Here, see youth, invasion, then the dark surrender – but not invasion of the soul, not surrender of the spirit. She takes from today its lesson and gives back the gift of her understanding. Yes, truth demands kindness and compassion nevertheless. 

He placed a piece of His divine in us all, she’s relieved to learn. “I have called you friends….”

The Road Before Us

I think there’s pale, storm blue.

And a handprint or two. In black, but gentle, not graffiti-like.

I hear green breathing in and giving back.

Soft fibers that fell from all over. Reminders of the eyes and hands behind them.

Amber inviting throughout the space.

Smiles. Wisdom-teaching smiles, that comfort and Save. 

Hard-covered poetry within arms reach.

Wooden bowls, filled for friends, beside the window that’s right where it’s needed.