&

Waking from a dream of walking hand-in-hand, but not before he touches my cheek.
A restful nap, a step outside, a "return-to-sender" in my mailbox.
The day grows somber, shrouded in literature, working through numbers in my head.
Carving memories from glimpses of the past and traces of the future.
Hopes spanning wider than the sky for all that is to come.
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When I reach that place
All there will be left to say is
I love you and I know
That You've always been there.

Tier One, Tier Two, Tier Three

It's a trying week that I've found myself in, and with that, a trying heart.

Abandoning dreams, sorting through losses, a quick incompetence followed by immeasuarable relief.

I feel weight lifted, a light merriness as I go through these motions. Up and down, swinging myself dizzy on the pendulum of what life is and what I hope for it to eventually become.

Spending time, spreading it between that which matters the most and that which matters not at all.

If I keep myself on the perimeters, eventually I must indeed find myself at the center. But no.Whistle this way and that, try as I might, it will never bring a balance until I find the correct tune.

Knowing, truly knowing, what it must be like, to be in the ever-surrounding grace of a hole in the ground, surrounded by grass, surrounded by trees, surrounded by sky. Pin-pointing that which is usually only seen through the wrong end of my little telescope.