Reflective Signatures

Morning Thoughts #101

Last night, I stayed in, and then went further - in. I was home and not speeding through it. When I moved, it was as if I were merely rippled through.

Music held down feelings lately uprooted by even the mildest exhalations, branches too often broken by the mere thought of gusts. Oh, audible paperweights - heavy, full, and soothing. You help summon my one superpower: nostalgia. You discourage my habit of unfocused leaps towards tomorrow’s unrelated lily pads. Thanks to you, I am able to savor these rare breaks where I allow myself to sink far enough into all that has been to remember that it is here I know best how to swim. Fully submerged, I found myself within a meaning completed on all sides - and for the short time (as it must be!) I could remain down there, nothing essential dripped away.

Rarely were primary sources so little in demand, and rarely have fingertips delivered so secondarily. I wasn’t reliving, I was reflecting in the manner of a painter signing an all but completed painting.