Grief flew through the ether like an arrow, lifted by emotions of fear, loneliness, and loss. The speed and precision made it even more fierce while clouds wept rain and birds sang songs of praise. The heart stands tethered to earth, grows wide with silenced screams, and the skin on which rain falls tightens in its attempt to hold it all together.

The rising sun cares not for pain, but nature reaches in and wipes all tears with golden strands. Air is breath, and hours become tiny knives that slice towards emptiness, leaving wounds to fill with salt. The presence of spirt and mind gives hope to the misunderstood transition, gives maybes to something lacking in the known and gives a sense of fleeting comfort.

The hairpin curve of love, hope, wishes, dreams, memories careens to a stop. A pause that reflects on yesterdays and begins to see tomorrows. The stop is inevitable, a must for sanity and continuance. It is the hand of love and protection that gently prods us back to the path of life and living, the lifting of the veil that we wrap tightly around our loins. This is the intersection of the moment, the blissful design that created us and now releases us. This is the truth of love and life.