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I write softly so you can hear me.
This is between you and me. We are alone now.
In the almost silence, worlds step out from their hiding places. Rivers rise up from the sand. Mountains heave themselves out of flatness. There, in the quiet of a new-formed land, we stand together, face-to-face, you and me.
Listening.
When we listen – really listen – we begin to say things of meaning. (Until then, we repeat from that tattered script we were all given.)
Let’s begin here, at that one true place where meaning is born.
(Confession: I do not know what comes next.)
When I write, I surrender. I allow the waves of meaning to break over me, rock me back and forth, float me up into the light.
I may not know what comes next but I will be listening. To you. To me. To the mystery that surrounds us.
Stay a while in this place with me.
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