Today, I walked through the woods, my green cathedral, my church of trees and dragonflies and autumn flowers. I was looking for something, a balm to soothe my bruised heart, some sort of answer or comfort for the precious sadness in my soul for the missing of you.
The dog ran blissfully, every stick a toy, every bend in the footpath a new adventure, living happily in the moment. I envied him, as I found myself trapped between a soft-focus past that I can't seem to forget, and fantasies of heart-breaking, Hollywood-ending futures which will never happen.
I wanted to say a prayer, but no pious wise man before me had written down the words to say. I wanted to sing a hymn, but this chapel in the woods, of the woods, today offered up no hymnals. I fell to my knees in a leaf-strewn clearing and wept, asking God for an answer. But today, the answer was, no answer. Or perhaps the answer was, find your own answer.
As I left the forest, angels clad in crimson and gold fluttered from the treetops. I thought to myself that maybe the bruise upon my heart is my prayer; the pearl of sadness in my soul is my hymn.
This gave me chills. So beautiful, as are you my friend.
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