In Each and Every Thing Which Crawls or Walks or Even Slowly Grows as Moss or Lichen

Know that
Though I have said so many things
To so many of you
And though you have responded
With such kindness and love that it draws the tears from my eyes as from a well
These things are only temporary;
I will be gone some day
And there may be no person to speak with you
Or you will leave some day
And I will be left without the light that you shine into my life.

This must not mean that darkness prevails.

You see,
The source of these words which we exchange
Does not reside within our minds;
It does not reside within our bodies
And it does not even reside within our hearts,
As vibrant and flowing as they might be.

In each and every thing
Which crawls or walks or even slowly grows as moss or lichen
Across the face of this Earth
And even in those that move across planets far from this one
(despite the rejection of this notion by those who fear the truth)
There is
There is
Something more.

You are
So much more than you will ever know,
So precious
-Infinitely so-
As to make the diamonds and gold of which pop songs are written
No more valuable than the small pieces of dirt that stick to gum on the soles of your shoe,
And my words must not be the reason for your knowing this;
You deserve to love and be loved
Without another human being to validate that.

This is a difficult concept,
And one I have struggled with all of my life.

For years I sought,
And still at times continue to seek,
The validation of others to tell me
That I was more than just a body
Waiting to die.

Many would come in to my life
And they would tell me how beautiful I am
How kind and caring and sweet I can be,
To which I would swoon
And allow my heart to race.

But without fail
These people would and continue to leave,
Sometimes on good terms,
And sometimes with my pet cat in their arms as I do all that I can to keep from falling apart.

It is only through this process repeating
Over and over and over and over and over
That I am slowly learning
That these people,
That I,
Am not but a conduit,
A vessel,
And that to find a love that lasts
I must draw from the source,
From that which can fill an empty room
With the joy of knowing it really is not empty at all.

My loves…
My sweet, kind, caring friends,
For whom I would do most anything,
If you do anything for me,
If there is anything I ask in return,
Just remember:
You matter,
So very much,
Regardless of what ANYONE ever tells you
Or fails to tell you.

There is always hope.
You are not alone.
You are loved,
And you always will be.


3 thoughts on “In Each and Every Thing Which Crawls or Walks or Even Slowly Grows as Moss or Lichen

    1. Thank you, my good friend. You know, your writing and your consistent support is exemplary of this all. I never forgot about you, even when I had stopped writing… And you came right back to read and support now. Life is as you say, transitory. And it is not easy always to understand this… But once we do, it is beautiful.

      Liked by 1 person

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