This morning's backyard walkabout brought forth a sense of what I fell asleep begging for.
Worlds collapsing all around me, contract after contract ending, sad faces leaning against my doorjamb whilst I utter again and again and again the verysame phrase: "good luck on future opportunities... I'm sure you'll do well."
I've made out like a champion and yet each afternoon leaves me champing my teeth harder than before.
There is no sense complaining. It will all be over in May, with we few remaining survivors surveying the wreckage of years gone by.
This morning I walked about my garden, eyeing weeds and overgrowth, planning tools and gestures for one of these weekends.
This morning I walked past the barren honeysuckle stems wound about the trellises against the back fence
and noticed buds along (literally) every inch.
Last week I was too preocuppied to crow about the tulips bursting from the earth out front, but today I had just enough peace inside to notice, and posterize. (I just made that one up. Posterize is the act of a monstre writing things down for memory and posterity.)
Worlds collapse and faith collapsing all about mine ears -- but today's dawn revealed yet other universes bursting forth with passion.
I will hold onto this observation throughout the trials of today.