This cool breeze by the river bank.

A great blue heron feeding in the shallows.

The pilated woodpecker serenading the forest with its haunting song.

I think I need one hundred days like this!

Slowly, ever so slowly. Here. Now. This!

Bit by bit and little by little, I feel a twinge of what may be life.

A steady erosion has happened in me.

It’s taken time to do this damage.

It will take more time to regain what’s been lost.  

The locust have ravaged much I feel now.

Sad stories, and far too many of them, have layered my heart with deep grief.

I think I need one hundred days like this.

But today, I just may have felt my heart again.

As I let this breeze wash over me, is this a baptism of love?

And as silence does what only the deep quiet does,

I sit here and stay here for a while this beautiful morn.

Soaking. Marinating. Feasting . Healing.