Dear You,
Things have quietened down a bit for a moment, because there are no thumping sounds of hammers and bricks and drills hard at work outside in the summer breeze anymore. And I feel good again because I have been part of this Friday's colours and I have smiled and collected laughter in return. So I must write to you once more because I have been wondering far too much for me to be at peace, and I trust you to keep these thoughts safe for me.
There have been a lot of moments lately when I have found myself looking at what I have never seen before and listening to what I could not have imagined. And it frightens me for the most part because it is like being handed a new thread altogether, to untangle and make a pattern out of even though I am unfamiliar. I do admit that unfamiliarity makes me squirm, especially when I find it in people and things I've come to know by heart. And how it interferes with how I have painted them with colours and words and lingering images. Then there is distortion. But I must not be ungrateful. I have come to know that you and I, we are infinite. And that there will always be a lot to find, a lot to make sense out of, but that's okay. Because there will be so much more to find wonder in, and so much more to learn to love. And I will never grow tired.
Yesterday night had been silent so I'd been thinking. About April Letters. Because it sounds fascinating to me. April Letters. To hold a soft, brown parchment - the colour of Patience, and to read and to keep reading, in the light of the piercing sunshine by day, and beside a quiet lampshade in the evening. To read of Lady April, as she pulls in the summer heat behind her and stops at the sight of you at the window to smile at you, and how with a graceful wave of a hand, she reminds you that she cannot, she will not stay for long. Dear friend, I cannot cease to believe in beauty and you mustn't either. And if you'd like to, we will go looking for it to find us. In April and always; forever more.
I have something else to tell you, too. That I have found a lot of power in prayer. And while that may not sound too profound, I must tell you that I have felt like I am listened to. Incoherent as my prayers are, I have learnt to mean them and believe in them before they come pouring out on the prayer mat. I have learnt to believe that I will be given what I was meant to be given. And then they work. I may not get what I want but things happen for the better. And I am grateful. Maybe I just had to learn to believe in my own prayers. I do now. I feel at peace.
And I do not believe that life is unfair. God is good, because what I do not get, was never mine. You must understand that life hastens to bring good to other people too and there are so many people to take care of. You must understand and you must never lose hope. Your time will come when your time will come.There is a lot of justice still. The floor beneath my feet, the roof above my head. You and I, we're infinitely blessed.
Thank You for listening.
Love,
Me.
Things have quietened down a bit for a moment, because there are no thumping sounds of hammers and bricks and drills hard at work outside in the summer breeze anymore. And I feel good again because I have been part of this Friday's colours and I have smiled and collected laughter in return. So I must write to you once more because I have been wondering far too much for me to be at peace, and I trust you to keep these thoughts safe for me.
There have been a lot of moments lately when I have found myself looking at what I have never seen before and listening to what I could not have imagined. And it frightens me for the most part because it is like being handed a new thread altogether, to untangle and make a pattern out of even though I am unfamiliar. I do admit that unfamiliarity makes me squirm, especially when I find it in people and things I've come to know by heart. And how it interferes with how I have painted them with colours and words and lingering images. Then there is distortion. But I must not be ungrateful. I have come to know that you and I, we are infinite. And that there will always be a lot to find, a lot to make sense out of, but that's okay. Because there will be so much more to find wonder in, and so much more to learn to love. And I will never grow tired.
Yesterday night had been silent so I'd been thinking. About April Letters. Because it sounds fascinating to me. April Letters. To hold a soft, brown parchment - the colour of Patience, and to read and to keep reading, in the light of the piercing sunshine by day, and beside a quiet lampshade in the evening. To read of Lady April, as she pulls in the summer heat behind her and stops at the sight of you at the window to smile at you, and how with a graceful wave of a hand, she reminds you that she cannot, she will not stay for long. Dear friend, I cannot cease to believe in beauty and you mustn't either. And if you'd like to, we will go looking for it to find us. In April and always; forever more.
I have something else to tell you, too. That I have found a lot of power in prayer. And while that may not sound too profound, I must tell you that I have felt like I am listened to. Incoherent as my prayers are, I have learnt to mean them and believe in them before they come pouring out on the prayer mat. I have learnt to believe that I will be given what I was meant to be given. And then they work. I may not get what I want but things happen for the better. And I am grateful. Maybe I just had to learn to believe in my own prayers. I do now. I feel at peace.
And I do not believe that life is unfair. God is good, because what I do not get, was never mine. You must understand that life hastens to bring good to other people too and there are so many people to take care of. You must understand and you must never lose hope. Your time will come when your time will come.There is a lot of justice still. The floor beneath my feet, the roof above my head. You and I, we're infinitely blessed.
Thank You for listening.
Love,
Me.
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