Eight wakes me. Existence greets me with community, and others. They clap their hands, we greet each other. I hear songs from my past, widening my heart to accept your gift. Young people, babies, love, doing their best. Thoughts jumble my mind and my stomach. Grape juice in cups that remind me of my past. My heart yearns and I open myself up. Broken cisterns. Come fill me. It's 10:30.
Jon Foreman guides me up North. I park in my favorite spot. Walk in shaking, too much coffee, or something else. It is All Saint's Day, and the occasion sends us to the Book of Common Prayer. I am home, as we say the prayers I have spoken since the day I could read. I am overwhelmed. We sing my favorite hymns.
Disregard everything, just listen.