Gather Ye Summer

 7.1.2020

And then a thing is over.

And I still don't know what's next.

And I don't really want a next.

I just want to stay, and sit, and relish freedom of an imagined eternal summer.

In which the consequence of staying up all night is nothing more than a more tired next day with kids.

And slowly, room by room, my space improves.

And little by little, we heal, start to drink and eat more right things and less wrong things.

And we find a way to live that is more than mere continued existence.

In it we find joy, purpose, satisfaction, and answers to the stresses, the concerns, the unknowns.

Because it's summer, and none of those things matter, and even if they do, there is time for mending them in this place between school and work and obligations.

Oh, let summer stay. The endless mornings of sleepy dawns, cool breezes on books through open windows, children splashing water on glass sliding doors, misty mornings rolling into too hot, lazy afternoons of cool drinks, guiltless napping, and up too late night games.

But the world was not made for just one season. Gather ye summer while ye may.