There are numerous moments from this week that breathe on their own… as if they’ve taken on life force, dragging me into their experience like a magnet- no matter my awareness, willingness, or ability to comprehend.
When asked which of these fierce, living moments struck me most… I came up empty. Surely time will change that, and I will slow, comprehend, take time… still my mind enough to communicate with my heart- and my sight, it will clear.
But for now…
Chest is tight. Breath leaves lung. Enter ache.
Little boy taking labor steps, with uneven footing and tightened grip, smile peeking.
Comparisons that express condition, frailty, image of bone and bone, a dirt laden face on the fresh skin of young life.
Stern demeanor, a telling of age by countenance, much too old.
Disease that destroys. The thieving of youth. Searing of hope.
Beacons, rebuilding of what was almost snatched away, life swells.
Stories that sing a hope song, to proclaim and reclaim life.
Death becomes life.
All of this, then what?
To not be lost, “caught between ignorance and the paralysis of despair…”
Dwelling, aware of all this goodness and ugliness, acting upon the stirring…
Breath enters lung.