I have been a bit wordless lately. This means that I just have nothing to say, so I don’t say anything. Maybe this goes back to childhood, I don’t know. Sometimes, I just feel wordless…I have no words.
I have been obsessed with the sky however. I have taken copious photos of the sky this week. Until it went black and bucketed with rain for three days. Maybe that’s something to do with my wordlessness. I would like to make a quilt of the sky one day…just need to work out how.
As I have no words I thought I would share some of my sky pictures and a piece of prose that was read at our friends funeral recently.
Come Walk Among the Stars
My gift of life is a thing of transient beauty, a thing of mystery and, above all else, a miracle. It is a thing of beauty because of the soul, a mystery because it stretches between the invisible yesterday and the unknown tomorrow, a miracle because it is a composite of countless other lives. And, as my life has been gently touched by other lives, it follows that I have touched theirs too. One cannot always know the time of greatest need. Perhaps this is as it should be. Perhaps it is only for me to light one darkened corner of the path, to place a hand upon your shoulder as a symbol of my kinship and my love. Perhaps I came this way, as did you, to fill some special need – but this is not always given us to know. Sometimes a single word will lift the spirit. Sometimes words are so inadequate and sometimes it is destined that one must only listen. Sometimes a smile will bridge the empty darkness. Sometimes just the nearness is the answer. From many lives I have gathered courage and strength. I have learned humility and gentleness and forgiveness, and for all these blessings I am grateful. And so you must understand that your life is not your own. It has become a part of mine, and so it follows that my life does not belong to me – it is yours.
by Winson Abbott