Transits.

Some days I wondered if all we had was just a temporal spatial dream, and then you walked out of it, and I have yet to leave. Or maybe you were never there.


"Like a tree I stay rooted, while the seasons go by,
Friends of a feather will come round and fly.
Some will be special and perch for a rest,
Whether to stay or just be a guest.
Sometimes the weather is just never right or the
branches get weak and give way to the height.
So there goes the circle of the sun and the rain,
I'm left with the lessons of laughter and pain."


Like the weather, they all change. One day everything is good, and than the next, things are bad, and than things are good again, and than eventually everything turns cold, and although that warm feeling comes back, it is never that warm feeling that you first experienced.



Somehow, we need to prepare to let those who want to move on in different directions, the freedom to do so, and we need to let them go.