[view of downtown Annapolis, Maryland and Spa Creek from across the Severn River]
On this winter afternoon
The dull southern sunlight woven
Like beads on the surface
Of the gently rolling and sighing River.
A soul contemplates
The tired and lonely heart
Tied in a paradox of
A settling-into-the-reality feeling, tugging at the tips of the fingers, and pulling at your chest, dragging at your skin.
Of pulling close, connecting, and knowing an eternal familiarity,
But also letting go and driving space, swallowing the abyss.
Close your eyes and pray…
A wrestling morass of anguish and hesitant resignation.
…and having faith,
Searching for hope (?)
That “no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.”*
*line from the “Desiderata”