Alhamdullilah

This world was never meant to be paradise. God has created a world that is meant to drive you to god.

Guard your heart above all else, for it is the source of life.

You, who turned firelight to gold, I swear sometimes I hear you in the singing of the ground. Springtime comes and the earth bleeds soft and green and violets under the places you should’ve been walking and I wish I could make this prettier for you. I wanted to give you the whole world, you know that? Like you gave me. The first spark of creation grew in your canyon heart and when I’m drowning in these caves you are still the light I look for. The hands. The grace. There’s an abundance of beautiful words out here, beautiful things, whisper and raindrops and tender and a solar system opening up to meet you and first breath and heartbeat, a single taste of morning, gentle, tucking in and waves breaking and putting back together. I find you in all of them. This isn’t goodbye, because we missed the chance for that, or maybe that’s a gift, a door, we’re not supposed to know when to open anyway. This is an anthem. Because I feel you in the undercurrent of all the music, a tremble just beneath the beat. Because I can almost touch you in the wind, in the shadows where the light pierces through, baby’s eyelashes and dandelions and all of the tears. This is to say  I remember you. This is to say the earth still holds you, that it couldn’t spin without a center. This is to say you’re here.

We will make it there, beyond all of this waiting. This ache will pay off.

I love people who are open-minded. People who just vibe with whatever you talk about. You can talk about anything and everything.

No sadness lasts forever, nor any amusement.