They sing in the dark. Pitch. Night as far as one would know.
Bright celestial orb still tucked deep behind east mountain blankets.
What makes them sing?
Could it be hope? The sun rose yesterday, might it again today?
Sweet song invitation. Whistling sonnet. A wake up alarm.
"Come out! I'll sing for you. Wake up please. Shine."
I'd like to sing in the dark. Humming hope and expectation of a sure faithfulness. Rejoicing before first rays. In the night.
Waiting, coaxing, playing.
So glad to be joining Emily and others again at . .
And Sandra at . .
I am rethinking/reworking/repraying (is that a word) "Sister Blogs" and hope to begin again in a few weeks on another day . . Tuesday or Wednesday. The passion to promote and encourage each other is still strong in my heart, I just want to do it well. If you have any ideas, I'm all ears! Thanks for reading.
Labels: imperfect prose