July smiled and approached and
smothered all while she laughed.
blink and August is sitting right next to me. I have so much to tell her but
I’m wondering where July went to. I want to say so many things. I spend all day
and night drenched in words yet I can’t seem to sum up any for her. I’m a
writer with some kind of strange block and I’m not sure why.
see the scars of the month. And feel the light it’s left behind.
maybe, possibly, I’ll have one of those moments. One of those AHA brilliant
sort of bursts when I finally can see it in its proper place and light. But
right now, I’m sitting on a hurling train racing toward tomorrow while
forgetting about yesterday.
just want to linger in yesterday. Just for a moment.
just want to sum up what it means.
want to take the laughter and the tears and the words and the activity and
bottle them into something special. Something that I can open on a late night
many years from now. Vintage 2013. Named July.
seriously could feel and taste the dread before July arrived. But so often,
life surprises me. God turns the head on my expectations and fears. He brings
me safe souls that somehow like me. That linger around long enough to give me a
little more life. Long enough to inspire long after the embers of the fire are
August, what do you have planned? What do you have in mind?
I shouldn’t ask.
I should let it be. Let it lie.
I should awake and see the morning sun and thank God for another day.
the breath and the lives around me and the home and the family and the love.
somehow, in some way, I picked it up again. I found it amidst some kind of
poison ivy. The compass. The call. This beautiful little thing called craft.
found it and gave it away.
don’t let me let you down. Don’t let me take it back. Don’t let the waves start
to waver all over my face and soul. Don’t make July regret meeting me. Don’t
make September roll its eyes watching me from afar. Let these past thirty-one
days count. Let this 42nd July count in the ways the others haven’t
the bell that reminds me whenever the door opens.
the drum to announce your arrival whenever the memory comes.
tick tock tick tock that pounds in my skull silenced for a bit. And in its
place, I found something glorious.
spoke through a bull frog. Of course He did.
the days go on and the nights are still there and it’ll be easy to go on and be
so unaware. So July, remind me.
me in the gloomy October.
me in the busy December.
me in the cold February.
me in the colorful April.
me and keep reminding me.
me for my own sake and my own soul.
me of your far off sunsets and your fire tunnels.
reminding me whenever I need those reminders.
shining, July, and don’t ever stop.