foxholes

Piecing together parts for a new book. I am excited, because it's a departure from something I have not tried yet, yet it is exactly what I like to write about. Summed up best, I'd say it's this:

"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

And that little sentence is what the world is about, even the universe. Every tree that looks dead and whose leaves have scattered the earth, whose bare limbs look like skinny hands raised to heaven, from every bicycle moving their spokes down old streets near old bricks and small vines growing in between mortar. Every. little. thing. whispers about those three that remain. And in all things there lies a reflection of something Greater, of something that can hold all three that remain and make them into One.

And every night when I lay up late, go outside, watch the moon hang there, the clouds and their cold move by I can feel it. And every morning when I smile because of someone and feel the heat of the yawning sun I know it. For such a long time there was a separation of heart and mind, of knowing these things but not getting it. Things change though, tons of small cogs and pins and wheels turning ever so slowly, locking into place until the pins fall and the safe is opened.

So, here I am warming up my mental vocal chords, stretching my fingers over a keyboard, knowing that I may never make a cent with anything I write. But then again, if one person is affected or changed or can feel something that did not feel before, then I am the richest man in the world. Just can't buy a house with that kind of wealth. Well, not here anyways.

The world is changing. It's about time.