I ran farther than before and with a rhythm in my ear, I taught myself to breathe.
I felt it was enough and then the song I thought was new, I’ve learned is old, told me it was true.
The enough I knew was true.
Still, I listened and loved it again. This song about being up to my neck in stuff gone wrong, settled stagnantly defeated and conversations leaving me longing to say more.
Ran a little extra, into my grassy front yard, circling back towards the bird bath, plucking a purple bloom from the bottom of the shrub and remembering the feather
I’d forgotten, tucked safely against my breast.
“Somewhere in between forever and this passing day
There’s a place moth and rust cannot lay waste
This is grace, the face of love…” Flood Waters, Josh Garrells