So long silent. Wrapped in detritus of life – bills, must-dos, chores (largely undone), demands here, disappointments there, and death. Death of dear ones recent, and long ago.
Surrendered to the noise. Entombed. Buried by everyday clutter.
Life forfeited to others’ dramas, advertisements, and news.
Wasted time. Wallowing in self-pity, mourning aborted dreams. Waiting for hopelessness to clear, as if waiting changes things.
I struggle to understand how the world was suddenly turned upside down, or maybe it was a gradual erosion that escaped attention.
Searching for a switch that powers back joy, laughter, and love.
Shut off the box, the stream, the noise.
Stand up. Move. Be.
Creekside Whispers 