The Blizzard’s Promise:  to bring us all closer.

We look out of snow-packed windows at white white nothing but white and wind and remember how wonder feels.  What warm is, what nourishment tastes like.

It tastes like time.  Like open, endless time.

Time tastes a little like fever.

Now finally I can… and then I can… and then…

Still the wind blows and blows and we peer out and still see Wonder.  The taste of nourishment is different, now.  More like Memory.  Like something you loved a long long time ago and just remembered….

Without even realizing you’ve moved your body to the table where your hands are now occupied with making something that reminds you of what that felt like and hours pass by ….

We’re all alive, right now, with all the other people who are alive.

Thank God for that.  More, please.