When the wind whistles through my helmet, I sometimes hear whispers mixed into it.
“There’s something happening here. What it is ain’t exactly clear.” Except to the child-mind and -heart
Each of you who has loved me has been God’s face for those moments
Light and shadows at once. The dark sides of trees against a lit up lawn and sky. The light and the shade both suck us in. And we suck in light and shadow. We are both. We are neither. We are the full scene. And more. A more without end.
There’s a phrase, “A knot in my chest.” It is not, “A knot in my heart.” Why?
A strange day of mixed messiness I see from my back porch while I sip. I see shadows, and the brightness of sunshine, but no blue sky. Lots of birds singing love songs to prospective mates, and a distant lawnmower’s soothing drone, human industry and imposition of neatness. Messy mix