Dreary clouds depress a spirit deeply weighed with heavy mist of fallen tears. Tears of joy and of goodbye can only be rightened and evaporated when the sun shines brightly with a warmth eternal; yet seemingly transitory as it moves across the sky— or as the scientists tell us— as we move turning, turning, turning across our orbit in coldest space. But as my feet linger on the back wooden deck, i still feel the warmth of the sun’s past shining, and I know with inductive logical certainty that probably, the sun will return, and it will be all the warmer and all the more refreshed for having passed the cool night on it’s journey through the heavens.
When you are not with me —- it is a tangible presence lacking. But still I feel your spirit near. The spirit with which you worship, far away, is the same spirit that will feel immediate insatiable pleasure at your return.
Just as I will when the Seattle weather leaves sunny Colorado—hopefully upon your return. You are my Sunshine; and you are one of the greatest gifts that God has given me.