like sirens calling into an empty night, the bells ring and autumn brings a fresh candor to the skies of shelter.
the view is so subtle, yet so inflected with meaning: the vision of a hand, a pure white flower just furling beneath the soil, not quite ready to blossom into splendor.
as the sight remains seared into memory, time marches. and the soil begins to crack, and life begins to grow, and love, love is the reward. love is the horizon.
so goes onward, forward into the chaos of today. hate spewed in place of helplessness. irony in place of progress. beauty in place of truth.
but, alas, in great beauty, often lies truth. some find truth quite beautiful, even necessary. any smudge on its mirror is impossible. any chance of its splendor compromised is unbearable. words are true. sound is true. light is true. thus, as it has been said, perception is power. therein lies a life.
time tells that in fear the truth lies, sleeping soundly, but with the promise of day. in fear, chaos is still. in fear, we feel oppressed by a sudden sense of humility. in fear, we feel a desire for mercy. in fear, the delicate boundary between external and internal is clear. and there lies the power of fear. and love.
in a time of great trembling, the capacity to reach out, beyond the prison of self, is precious. to accept and ultimately transcend the profound loneliness of fear is to discover strength enough to know where our hands end and the sky begins. and maybe, when our fingers touch the same sky, we can truly feel the immensity of each other. and love.