Blessings and Curses
Every fleeting moment contains within it a type of freedom and slavery.
Yet, in these moments of isolation.
The wind that rustles my hair consoles my frantic soul.
Is that the not the ultimate test of God?
how vast the lands, not roamed enough by foot….
I now spend my waking hours seeking the sun
Counting time by the beams of crimson gold or pale and ivory moonlight
No longer do I sing
But the chapel in our house has become my sole companion
I learned to communicate with God. For it seems we are indeed stuck together for sometime….
We may be at home with family
Will we ever go back inside?
Will we value the same things?
Will we spend more time cooking?Singing, loving, looking?
The Silent Singer 