Time

Time…

In the midst of summer, when the days seem so long…it can be hard to believe that there will ever be a season without warmth, with little sunlight…a season of quiet and going within.

In the midst of summer, when the nights seem so ripe with the promise of the coming sunrise…it can be hard to imagine a time of true rest…a time of stillness.

When our Stories Call to us…when They reach out Their hands and stretch Their fingers out towards our awareness that we might turn our heads and cock our ears to hear Their Voices…it can be hard to believe that this tiny idea…this small scrap or fragment of whispered verse could ever bloom and blossom into a Song.

Summer Storms Bring Ripe Rains

Whipping Winds Rouse Wakeful Wanderers

And through the inevitable, interminable, undeniable passage of Time…our Gardens begin to Sing.

Have you taken the time to listen?

Happy Writing