Twenty to Two

It is late and so I read. I read words written to and for me. They are words written about me and who I am. Words of love, words of wisdom, and words of peace flood my heart. Reading them gives me hope and a wave of calm washes over me as my mind comprehends the letters as they create the words and sentences my eyes so restlessly take in.

I gently think upon them. If I think too hard the meanings are driven away and the details blurred into a mass of pressure and fear. It’s like a sculptor as he sculpts the face of a great beauty, too much pressure and the face is ruined, deformed into a mound of wet, sticky clay. No, instead he gently glides his fingers across the clay, smoothing out the lumps, and creating the complexion of a goddess, flawless and pure. Such is the gentleness of my thoughts. I dare not think too hard for I do not want to ruin their purity with too much pressure.

The gentle rain on the rooftop only adds to the whimsical mood that so appeals to my wandering, sleepless mind tonight. It reminds me of so many beautiful moments throughout my young life. We seem to have a love affair, the rain and I. It inspires and delights me so easily and is every ready to grace me with it’s presence in response to my childish delight. Tonight, I welcome it gladly, as it’s steady symphony keeps me company as I read.