(found by a picture of a smiling face kept in freshly-polished picture frame)
I am alive. I am all and then and none and always living. I am the enervating force that causes flowers to bloom and mountains to crumble. I am alive.
Have you bowed to a moving city bus? Have you bowed your head, knelt down and pressed your forehead into the pavement in the face of awe and mighty innovation?
I have and am yet alive, will be still alive, have been always alive. And yet I am alive.
There was a sunny day some time ago. The rain has come, settled over the lake like a cat before a fire. The rain has come and – without even a slicker – I went out and enjoyed the raindrops. A torrent of raindrops – individual and tiny, alone nothing but a fleck of moisture and barely perceived, but together, all together, enough to soak a human to the bone. A torrent of raindrops fell from clouds that blocked out the sun, that made the sky grey at times and black at times and glow with faint halos with the sun did struggle to poke through. A torrent of raindrops.
And here I am, alive. Standing on my feet and alive. Waiting for the bus to come, to come and take me down the road, and I am alive. Sitting in a puddle of the raindrops dripping from my slicker and alive. Alive, Joelle, alive.
The sun, the sun feels glorious. Even when it can’t be seen. It just feels glorious.
I am alive with love. Alive with joy. Alive with…simply. Alive simply. Simply alive.