|Writing toward the light
||[Apr. 11th, 2012|08:55 am]
My house is bathed in warmth of glowing candles on this wooly gray morning. The teakettle's on, and I'm settling into my writing chair, and --let me be honest here--I'm feeling a bit uneasy. I'm working my way through a dark patch, and hoo boy, I find myself craving the light of your companionship.
Will you come sit with me awhile? You can have the chair by the window, the one that's closest to the garden. My flowers are soggy, stems bowed low by the rain. But their faces are bright, now that they've been scrubbed by rainwater. And if you peer deep into the shroud of mist, you'll see a flock of goldfinches, lifting their wings toward sunlight. Let's follow them...see where they lead us.