Groggy because of the rain barely falling and the ceiling fan’s dull wobbly sound. It is rhythmic, the way I’m drawn to notice.
I’d nap if there were time or if my mind could remember the way back to settled. I’ve lost the gift of napping and I’ve no idea why except there always seems to be something else I need to know, new words, the expressions of them. I’m introspective unable to stop soaking in, seeking the more to know.
My loyalty is to the inner vision, whenever and howsoever it may arrive.
A poet’s book of essays on my lap and
the kind words of the morning still close.
Someone said they’d heard a soul described as clear as glass.
My day started this way, a message, a kind word.
I heard a reference in the story that instantly reminded me of the path you are on. It is when Joshua referred to a woman having a “soul that is clear as glass”. I can’t think of another person who fits that bill. Keep writing.
This evening, hoping to summon autumn, I decide on a cup of tea.
The tiniest bit of sugar crystallized clumped now on the bottom, I notice the word “soul”.
I smile because I’m reminded my heart is known, the desires of them, by God.
Clearly, my soul the same.