Scraps for a World

I sit at a blank screen. I was going to nap, but my soul is full. I want to spill words on this empty world, but only fleeting pictures come. Children stacking Ebenezers in the river bed. The way my almost two year old bounces when she walks, as if joy makes her feet levitate above the ground. A hidden gorge with a wooden bridge and the last plank broken, the cool of the forest. Narnian shadows in a forest of Ents. Woodpecker signals, a secret code. Children whose eyes are open. The wonder of the first blazing red/yellow leaf. A collection of rock people, waiting for painted faces.

I want to write because I have lived today. I have lain on the grass and watched the clouds. I have marveled at the contrast between green grass and grey sky. I have heard bird and cricket and cicada and the sound of laughter. Scraps for a world. And they are good.


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