Please forgive me for causing you to leave. You brought me much joy the first time I heard your voice, and I have heard you sing to me many times since.
But then I skirted the edge of darkness and you fluttered away. I have been in the “valley of the shadow of death” quite literally, and yet I live. It is, truly, a miracle of God’s grace and mercy.
I am sorry . . .
I returned home last night, to the same place where just outside my windows I have heard you sing. It is familiar but fresh. Constant and cleansed, this place, and it feels good with a renewed sense of rightness about it that is beyond words. Only a song could tell the story well so I will let the story drift away for now.
That is all we have, you know. Now. Our daily bread.
I am but an infant even in the knowledge of this and of myself, much less all else that is. However, by that same miracle I am coming into awareness day by day of the richness of today. Tomorrow? May there be many of them, and may they each become today, full of joy and wonder together.
As if in answer to my morning prayers, when I walked out my doorway today, before our dawn . . . I heard your voice again singing high above as a perched promise.
I am ever grateful. And, although not indebted (the debt has been paid, we know), I will live this life, one day at a time, as the gift that it is.
Thank you for your song, your lyrical life, your miracle melodies, and your unseen beauty.
With my love,