A Few Watery Breaths

More scans.

Biopsies.

It's not nothing.

To ponder regrets and unclaimed dreams means very little unless one plans to act. How do I get there before it's too late?

A spider drops from the ceiling, almost landing in the soup. Spicy, oven roasted potatoes with a side of vegetable rice pilaf. Also, I think it's green smoothies from here on out.

The path to take will rise in an imminent fashion. Please prepare for all the seas to meet, beloved.

Kora zooms around the yard with aging hips, but on occasion, her body buckles as she misjudges either the height of the step or her ability to make the jump. She rolls hard, gathers herself, and finishes the course with a limp.

The stark squeal of spiritual rubber meeting the road.

After the doctor's appointment, I stopped by the Grand River to take a few watery breaths. A bald eagle lowered himself to enter and hold me. The red-winged blackbirds trilled in the knowable distance.

There is a certain bewitching in the use of analogy – a way of “seeing” – an experience held by the one who transmits experience is such a way. Jesus makes quick work of our human density when he employs this childlike playfulness; he became the magician we all need to render our yokes lighter – our burdens easier. In this way, we are still at the river.