There is a muse in my life. Warm, serene, gentle. And I think I am a muse in another person’s life. The interaction, on equal terms, brings comfort and happiness to me.
I’ve been thinking of the worries and heartaches I carry with me as a heavy pack, on a long journey. The journey is so long I have no idea where it ends. The pack is so heavy that at times it is overwhelming. But sometimes, I can find the time to take a break, and enjoy life and the sensual world around me. The glow of city lights. The scents and feelings of blissful company bring sweet release. But the heavy pack remains. The journey must be continued. But with the camraderie of loved ones, the journey is less a burden.
Many hands make light work.
Last night, and this morning I cried. The first good cry in several days.
But today will be a good day.