Floundering
I still eyeball the Cilantro at the market, to find the biggest and the best for you. I’m still trying to figure out who I am without you. I think, every morning, I’ll just walk quietly through the woods and see if Bella&Buzz have left yet, but what are my intentions? If they’re there, I would *have* to say hello. If they’re gone, it will be another loss. Not knowing is like Schrodinger’s cat.
Thank goodness I have family, friends, faith and flowers to get me through this floundering. Two little birds dead yesterday. One flew hard into the house and one fell into the paws of Frank the Ginger Hunter cat. It hurts to have empathy. I understand why people steel themselves from pain by pretending not to care. I was once quite good at it (though I only fooled myself).
I’m beginning to repeat myself, perhaps I’ve nothing new to say. We are all on a great adventure. An incredible journey. A wandering wonderment. In the end, will you show up at the gates of Love, or will you stand before the gates of Hell? Your life is pointing a direction to those who follow. Where will you send them? At which gate will you gather, and call home?
LBM 7/11/2019
