James D. Windsor, Piled higher deeper.

I abhor the dull routine of existence.

the great principle of light, for ever remains white or colorless in itself

It is not down in any map; true places never are.

And for the first time,
you see it.
That gentle grace you were gifted,
All those years ago.

You recognize it.
You’ve felt this before.
But only now do you see it.
Only now do you know what it was.

The sun is there.
Its giving you not just light,
but warmth.
A loving hand held out to you.
Piercing through decades of darkness you didn’t know you were carrying.

You search for answers,
frantic, all around you —
until you look up.

The weight of everything pulling you down.
You start to sink.

Some small thing —
a glance, a voice, a flicker —
and the ground shifts beneath your feet.

Have you ever had a moment so absurd, that life suddenly doesn’t make sense?

You recognize the feeling of that warmth. For the first time in your life you are seeing something as it was. You finally witness the gentle grace gifted to you in that formative time all those years ago.

You start to sink into the softness below your feet. You feel the weight of it all pulling you down. You frantically search for answers in all directions… until you look up. You see the Sun, shining down on you. Feeling its warmth finally penetrating the decades of darkness surrounding your soul.