Sitting with the birds chirping
The lemon water steaming
The memories of mountains in the forefront of my mind
Sitting with the dreary clouds
The deepest breath
The richest sigh.
Sitting with my Sunday wondering.
Wondering about what is to come
Who is left to meet
and how I will be.
Will the house in the valley be true?
will the children run around my feet?
will my home be filled with laughter and wonder?
will my hair grow long and my feet grow rough from barefootedness?
will the mountains keep me company?
will my love hold my hand into the endless not knowings?
I sit with my Sunday
Without a glass ball or certain prophecy
and so I sip my drink, inhale deeply, and think of all the Sundays ahead still to cherish.
This is stunning! 😍