As you read this, I hope you will understand that when I speak of the long night that preceded these days of my happiness, I do not remember grief and loneliness so much as I do peace and comfort — grief, but never without comfort; loneliness, but never without peace. Almost never.
~ Marilynne Robinson, from Gilead, loaned to me by Ann. Thanks, Ann.
The slow sense of
softness,
like being followed in spirit,
haunted,
melted just an inch or so,
changed.
Art quietly proclaims
the value of the flame’s dark border.
