So many changes in these past weeks.
Old habits die hard deaths, and harder still are the choices that lie ahead.
Still, though, we are bathed in cloud. And occasionally, the universe shines.
And sometimes, someone reaches across the years, a stranger through a friend through dying, death and delay, and whispers words that echo, reverberate, hang in the stillness of time.
It's here in all the pieces of my shame
that now I find myself again.
I yearn to belong to something, to be contained
in an all-embracing mind that sees me
as a single thing.
I yearn to be held
in the great hands of your heart
oh let them take me now
Into them I place these fragments, my life,
and you, God -- spend them however you want.
(Rainer Maria Rilke, The Book of Hours, II.2)