Thursday, September 11, 2014

Like a Young Tree

a young cedar tree
On September 11th, it feels like only yesterday when all that bad stuff happened. In the following thirteen years I see new growth. I see how the world has changed. I've seen my children grow up from toddlers to teens and twenty.

Like a young tree, I hope you continue to seek and reach for the sun. I hope your roots find the water they need. Your leaves or fur, feathers, fingers may catch the light briefly and then allow yourself to shake it off like a dog. Carelessly send dripping spangles of your inconvenient joyousness on any surface or nearby strangers' clothes. Especially, that stranger's clothes.

There need be no apology for happiness. It's all so brief and then in a flash, it goes on and out.


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