|We're mountain tarns reflecting fair weather. We dazzle each other with the ricocheted shards of a thin, white sun. Our faces are rippled by the breezy cold words we breathe upon each other.|
We've worked ourselves into a pickle this time, haven't we, honey? My, my, my. Such a pity.
Well, it's no news, really. Good-hearted people will sometimes find themselves at odds with each other despite their noblest efforts. And when times are dark, it can be hard to maintain perspective. Some days I get by on faith. Other days, it's the knowledge that the cards are already dealt and it's just a matter of turning them over and reading them.
|Road-weary pilgrim, stony mountain pass. Sun rents the clouds as he stands at the summit. In the valley, the golden city is spattered by diamond sparks. Fall away, weariness! Let the mist come now!|
I don't know much about holding things together. There's not a lot that has held together for me over the years. But I think I can guess how it might work.
It seems to me that you do it by trying. Trying to hold it together. Trying all the time. Trying to forgive. Trying, trying. Trying to love each other. Never stop. Never stop.