Much of this will not be remembered and that is a blessing. The singularity of this summer has a feeling with no name yet. Only looking backwards will I see what it truly was called, I think. And then I will name it.
I do not know if all of our blessings need to be disguised in order to be earned. I do not know why great change brings about such laughter and deep sleep. I do not know if testing a heart will harden it beyond repair. I have decided I will not harden just in case. I will stay soft as a petal despite the desire to do the opposite.
We will find a way, this season and me. Until then, we wait.
I am ferocious with my words but sometimes words don’t come…who knows why? The well is deep, perhaps the bucket has too much water for me to pull it back to surface. Perhaps I need to rest my arms, gather strength. Perhaps I am distracted by the beauty of the moment and stand in awe staring at the butterflies, the fireflies, the simple white hydrangea bulb as festive as a bride.
But it will come back, it always comes back. It all just takes time.
We will find a way, the words and me. Until then, we wait.