Sitting across from me on the blue subway bench this morning was an older woman maybe sixty. She was radiant, and yet ordinary, concealed in the mundane, aged by life, and transcendent. She must have been exquisite in her youth, half life leaving its trace behind.
Inadvertently captured, I took her in furtively, and the edge of something inside me glistened, a room opening in my heart. The truth about love and beauty calling to be known in this lifetime came forth, ripening. In that instant, in the most quiet way— recognition surfaced— could sense the emptiness in exaltation.
I love the way you describe arriving at your thoughts. The way Death is portrayed is familiar to me and a belief I hold, wholly/holy
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