terrypetersen

I feel a very unusual sensation—if it is not indigestion, I think it must be gratitude. (Benjamin Disraeli) 

Darkness.

Because the electricity is out again. And I am accustomed to flipping a switch and accepting light. As my own right. Without any awareness of entitlement.

Darkness.

It can be a gift or a curse. Deepened colors reveal dimension in a painting. Shade provides relief from the bright sun. Or darkness can mean hatred without reason, an ignorance of color or shade.

Darkness

can be found in a moment or it can be stuck inside a locked mental space. It can be a fear, based on the past, or a fear, set on immediate danger.

Light.

The power has returned. Mechanical clocks flash and beg to be reset. They remember this moment and begin from here. A fresh place in local time.

Light.

Who do I know who needs a simple touch? Power. Start. With a word. Gratitude for who that person is. Now.

Light

joins with power. Hospitals heal patients. People can survive and thrive. A new day. And a new day in this simple, small house where two septuagenarians celebrate the gift of another day.