Thinking - watching the snow fall like cotton puffs being tossed before a fan. A certain beauty this winter wonderland is as I sit searching for warmth in the coffee shop –watching-listening to the chatter of humanity. I try to write – try to create as I sit on the outside being part of it all but still only an observer. Embracing it all, my words are my warmth on a cold winter day; they warm me and keep me safe as no person can.
I can live with only myself, with an occasional meeting with friends and loved ones, but my total comfort comes from within. I pity the soul who cannot be content with self. It took me many years, many decades to get here, at peace with me.
The snow is collecting like many experiences and relationships in life. As we collect them many stick, but ever so many just melt away. I want to keep the solid ones, as stones these will stay and not melt away. Those that melt should not be mourned, as the melted snow is never thought of again.
1 comment:
Like this alot. Last paragraph my favorite - so true.
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