How Sweet That Kindness Was

What is expressed in love can be neither undone nor taken back nor does it long to be. There are lakes that only exist because we dreamed them. There are trails we find with others but follow alone.The form love takes is not Love.The thought that went before and said "maybe" is not Heaven. The Holy Spirit reminds us of every promise. In a sense we regret ends because of the beginning they imply. Question loss. There are days when our reflections appear more real than we are. And yet. The brook sings a little as it passes in the dark. What moves towards Heaven moves inside us even now. In Eternity mountains rise, highways uncurl and new fields appear, all begging walkers. That which is Love will not allow a single secret, dear one. Some mornings he cries, some he just walks and remembers how sweet that kindness was. The man without shoes never claimed to be wise, only that he listened once when Jesus spoke. The form that any writing takes is not the one who wrote nor - always - what he means to say. Most weather where I live moves West to East and then out to sea. Save nothing, okay? No moon rises but speaks of her, no light falls but he remembers.