We are, we are, we are.

A —

It is something like magic, the way the buds open over night. You would think they need the sun to show their faces but it happens while we sleep. Then, in the morning, they are there to greet the day. Yellows and pinks and violets and blues, light and dark. The Earth’s reminder all around us that out of even the darkest and coldest of times, life springs eternal.

We are eternal, you and I. We are the flowers of spring. Sometimes we fold into ourselves and wither, but that is not the end. We always come back. We are bright and fragrant. We are joy. We are, we are, we are.

M.

On Little Feet

A —

I am sorry for my long silence, but I assure you it has been well warranted. For the first time in a long time the darkness of February did not bring sadness. Instead I found myself wrapped up in a whirlwind I can only describe as fate.

Or, at least I want to believe it is. One never knows, do they? You think it is fate. You believe it until you are given a reason not to. Hopefully that reason never comes. Still, who’s to say it is not just late to arrive?

I cannot be that cynical. I must believe that love is alive and well and living all around us. I must believe that Spring will come on little feet, creeping in with the afternoon light, waking the trees from their slumbers. I must believe that we are deserving of good things. We are not the broken toys we have been conditioned to consider ourselves. We are thriving creatures. We are untamed, wild things, just waiting for our forever.

I am lost in words and love. I am full of light. I will bring you flowers. I will always be your love.

M.

☀️

M.

I just noticed today, actually, the sun tacked up at 5 O'Clock. No intentions of going anywhere for another several minutes. I felt comforted, too, by the possibilities it gives.

Interesting, those same opportunities exist without it, but we forget. Like old patients of the sun-down, who are docile or lethargic. I appreciate our conscious taking a little yawn and peeking out at old pass times.

It's such a simple idea that light gives hope, and lends itself to activity. As we get older, I want to talk about these front-porch topics with you.

The weather. The neighborhood. The children. The men. Life doesn't need to be much bigger than that, because we can get a sun dial, or lay some brick, or teach a lesson, and it doesn't inflate us, rather, it fills in the blanks.

The way the sun does after a dark December.

A.

Do You Feel It Too?

A —

Time is fleeting, but the days are getting longer. I can see hope on the horizon. Maybe it is because I am keeping busy. I find that my soul craves movement. I am a social creature. Do you feel it too? Does too much time alone hurt your heart?

We don’t deserve hurt hearts.

I’m sorry, my mind is other places. I’ll write more next time. Stay true, love. It’s just me and you.

M.

Hello, from the Abyss

M,

I wonder if you know that you're beautiful. Who, lately has taken the time to share this with you? Truth is free, and it's what I have to give. My dear, love, is us, still. I promise!

May I fill you up? Please. To the brim. You are deserving.

Even in the shortest hours, on the most grim day. I love you. I think about you, I'm part of you. And if there is anything that makes you feel less? See me. See a broad mirror, with a narrow objective.

I really love you, I do.

-A.