Yesterday, 6 years ago…
I write to Gram and roll the letter into a scroll, secure with a bow. I contemplate placing the words into the ocean.
Are you happy?
I have red roses that I will feed the mouth of the ocean. I will watch the waves dance with the petals and then swallow them whole.
I have a Rei Ki doll and on our walks we find purple flowers springing up.
We protest and that is action that is hope. Hope as verb. I remember. Connected. Disconnected.
It’s so cold and grey, but sometimes there is sun.
I tell him he is the Sun–he is my Sunshine.
I call him, Love. I call my heart. Home.
We somersault around the core of our selves and make wishes and pray to heal.
There are times when the empty air flares
In this moment, the energy is still
We are told gently, it’s a good problem to have
They recommend healthy boundaries
They tell us what we already know. More blood. More Vitamin D.
Until all the Sun does is shine and shine.