Loss Takes Up Inside Of

Soul. The Word Rebounded To Me, And I Wondered, As I Often Had, What It Was Exactly. People Talked About It All The Time, But Did Anybody Actually Know? Sometimes I'd Pictured It Like A Pilot Light Burning Inside A Person--a Drop Of Fire From The Invisible Inferno People Called God. Or A Squashy Substance, Like A Piece Of Clay Or Dental Mold, Which Collected The Sum Of A Person's Experiences--a Million Indentations Of Happiness, Desperation, Fear, All The Small Piercings Of Beauty We've Ever Known.

Were All Yearning For A Wedge Of Sky, Aren't We? I Suspect God Plants These Yearnings In Us So We'll At Least Try And Change The Course Of Things. We Must Try, That's All.

It's Always Been My Hope That I Would Write A Story That Would Inspire And Would Connect With People In A Way That Would Touch Hearts.

I Realize That I Can Be With Someone, But On A Deeper Level I'm Not Available To Them At All. I Have Attention Deficit Disorder Of The Soul.

Now And Then Sprays Of Rain Flew Over And Misted Our Faces. Every Time I Refused To Wipe Away The Wetness. It Made The World Seem So Alive To Me. I Couldn't Help But Envy The Way A Good Storm Got Everyone's Attention.