My daughter is home with me this week, and that is glorious most of the time. The fits and starts, the rainbow imagination, the compelled play.
The sun, supposed to disappear two days ago unbeknownst to the sun, has shined and warmed.
But today I walk in sadness, occasionally wondering that my legs stand, bend, walk, carry. My heart, full of the waters of weeping, brims full, threatening to burst, but leaking instead into my body, filling me up from the soul. On occasion I've cried. But mostly I sit until I think of something to do so that I can move again and look purposeful for my little girl and not drown.
I only have one child, and for her I am more than grateful, but today it seems not enough. Tomorrow the state of things may seem bountiful or even too much, but today I feel barren.
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