“We are born of love; Love is our mother.” -Rumi
It is a rainy day, but it is a new one. A clouded day just months ago was an invitation to stay somber. There’s been such hurt in this place; I wonder if it wasn’t cruel of me, begging for you to arrive. But here you are now, weighted on my chest. Your breaths are odd and perfect. You smell like soap and bitter milk, lavender and whatever warmth is made of. You see with purest eyes and I want desperately to look out purely, too. Here you are now. You’ll help me see. You are named for good men who are gone, but here they are still in your blood and bones, in the quick thumping of your precious heart. Your crooked smile spills joy and there they are again with you. I prayed for you in a year where prayers seemed unanswered.
Here you are. It is as simple and miraculous as that.