Tuesday, May 6, 2025, 47.4* Grey
Mist falls, gathers among the trees as fog. Arthritis holds movement captive. Does it affect the creatures I do not see this morning? Asthma powders long ago put an end to singing as I wanted to this morning. I mouthed the words to The Sound of Silence. Zayne watched confused, trying to figure out if I mentioned food or going out.
Hello darkness my old friend drifted from a campfire through the Blue Ridge mountains. Drifted toward sparsely furnished cabins filled with children. Different children every week for six weeks, summer campers. I wasn’t one – a summer camper. I was there for six weeks as a counselor. I don’t remember the days, the routine. I remember singing Ave Maria with hundreds of voices echoing through an auditorium. I remember singing on mountain tops after a hike through the dark seeking sunrise. Our voices often disturbed the sound of silence but never the holiness of the moment.
“Speaking to one another with psalms,
hymns, and songs from the Spirit.
Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord.”
Ephesians 5:19
Art: LJ Austin
