We are ill creatures. A final night's sleep awaits us. Twenty-eight years ago today my mother died in the hospital where I now sit. Care for another has brought me back to this place where she breathed her last. It also happens to be where I breathed my first. We are involved creatures. A new day's light pours in through the windows of our lives.
day of rain--
bare branches of April
except for the buds
"Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge. There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard." ~ Psalm 19:2-3