Redacted

In my dreams I held you as though you were mine. which surprised me when I woke up, about as much as it surprises you now.

For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to harvest. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance. A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones. A time to embrace and a time to turn away. A time to search and a time to quit searching. A time to keep and a time to throw away. A time to tear and a time to mend. A time to be quiet and a time to speak. A time to love and a time to hate. A time for war and a time for peace. Ecclesiastes 3:1‭-‬8 NLT https://bible.com/bible/116/ecc.3.1-8.NLT

It's always July that makes me think of love. Never June. Rather it's the sound of the cicadas And the sweet smell of summer grass hot after the sun scorched day which is burned on my skin. As the mist rises up to obscure the end of evening, I walk content to breathe it in. Smiling