What warmth might we feel in order to dissuade the feeling of loneliness?
In the hour of our most desperate need, in the times that try us the most.
What of the world’s splendor could satiate the weariest of souls?
Though we float along the winds as if we were cottonwood blooms, perhaps not all is without its semblance of control.
For though we feel as not, perhaps all is not lost.
The deer keep with it’s herd, and the geese fly in perfect uniformity and cohesion.
And even the insect and the ant maintain as one.
The majesty of the eagle in flight, the bounding of the cougar.
The ingenuity of the beaver and the intricate nature of their daily labor.
And nature itself keeps its rhythm daily and provides its example of what should be.
The rising of the Montana sun and the parting of Big Sky clouds serves to remind, that the world is in perfect synchronicity. As a metronome of the perfect tempo.
Though we grieve daily, may we weep not. For time takes its toll, let us give thanks even if it does.
Let our subtle reminders in our surroundings take root. Let out greater angels allow us to prevail.
May we take heart in that which allows our humanity. May joy, fear, suffering and comfort be our equal framework in which we subside our tears.
It is said time heals all wounds. What do you do if they don’t?
The embrace of the human heart and the human spirit, the quiet embrace of all that is graceful, and just, and good, and right. The greater conviction to prevail, the ever enduring requisite to over come affliction. In the darkest of hours, in the most desperate of times, in the times that try men’s souls. Cling to the best of our humanity, and all that may one day be. The brightest day, the greatest joy, the bluest of skies, the appreciation of all that lies ahead.