As you continue to diminish, finish your work with glossy varnish to protect against the ravages of too much sun. Safeguard the subtle shadings and hoard the necessary joys of passing on.
The river gives you walking sticks and songs. The land has offered sustenance and stones. But reality lands hard on brittle bones.
It’s all too beautiful, the sunsets and train wrecks, the intentional offspring, the adopted ducks, the bad ideas, the sheep and goats, the bombs and tender mercies, the labyrinths and weeds. It’s all too beautiful to leave behind.
And Yet.
Graceful decreasing makes room for increasing. The Baptist knew you can only wash a few before your hands grow too cold to be trusted. Step down, aside, and forward. The Greater Whole is waiting by the fire.
Come warm yourself. The guests are gathering to honor all the good you’ve tried to do.
Offer your acceptance speech in lavender while the evening light plays havoc with defiant greens and blues. In scenes yet to be enacted, you may not recall your lines so pin them here and there in red behind the sofa or underneath the lamp.
Short visits with an honest God 