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Sunday, 24 February 2019 19:57

White Birds

Written by  Priscilla K. Garatti

For you've been a safe place for me, a good place to hide.~Psalm 59:16

I sit in the jade-colored chair in the corner of my room.  The chair is positioned beneath a window where sun can spill over me, like skeins of silk.  The week has been long, and I tilt toward fatigue.  I can hide here in this sunlit space for a while.  Writing in longhand.  I make a list of all the locations God provides me to hide, to breathe deeply.  To rest.

~Wavering flames of candles--the clean smell of white tea and aloe creates a refuge with its scent.

~My Funny Valentine.  Why do I like this song so much?  But don't change a hair for me, not if you care for me...It is okay to be imperfect here in this place where I hide.  Stay little Valentine stay...each day is Valentine's day.

~White birds. They are like a gathering of angels, curved necks bowed to drink from green-blue tidal waters...lacerating me with their beauty.  Do they see me?  Let me stand here just a bit longer.  Just a few moments more.

~My husband's hand clasps mine.  My heartbeat slows, his warmth rinses me with strength. 

~Candy-colored pinks now rupture on dark tree limbs--the opposite of cheerlessness is their delicacy. 

~An ultramarine sky unspools over the horizon, swatches of sunlight wreathe my face.

~The intangible presence of God, His comfort, His laughter, His mystery like finding shade.