It’s the 1960’s
Tired eyes patiently look upon opening doors. The chill swirls in,
But warmth is promised alongside red hues and hungry hearts
The day was long, and I’m short-winded, but I promised words would surface
Soon, perhaps? The cold touches me; the door opens once again – Reunion.
A hard, engulfing embrace, a familiar scent, flowers & a second home, an intelligent smile across thin lips, whose voice I know through the thickest of fogs
Sentences are quickly met with combining sighs & sways, from serious sentiments to silly grins.
Talk of hymns & youth, and light leaves her eyes dancing and the strings she has tied Around my heart are pulled gently – A familiar sanctuary.
I listen; agile hands speak, adding volume to usually soft discourse.
“Ah, but aren’t we both in discord?” I say.
Growing (suffering?) through gracious and constant giving – in all of ourselves, through God’s hands, or our very own (or, lovingly so, both)?
But our grandness falls as time loses us. It’s now the 21st century, where the world beckons once again. And so we part, closing our short window of solitude.
Till times turn again, my friend.