faith.

Cleaning up the kitchen, I couldn’t escape wondering whether it is possible to fall in love with a place. I have many flashes of my past, just me and a place. The way the wind blows, the way the leaves move, the way the sun shines, the way the darkness encapsulates. Looking up to a lamppost, my first snowfall dispersed by light. Climbing down a stony path finding a place by smell. Sitting in an alcove facing the wall where light strips fall. Looking out to the river, and reading that sign: Maribyrnong River Cruises. A cyclist passes by. Thinking how charming this place is. Hoping I will never have to move again. Ignoring my pigheaded melancholy crying out here’s to empty hopes!

Scrubbing the last stains off the floor, I heard the fox whisper to the little prince: it is the time you have devoted to your rose that makes your rose so important.

One sees clearly only with the heart. What is essential is invisible to the eye.