Tides

Thank goodness for Brad and his Budget Blinds. Without them, I’d be blind, for the sun is actually shining today, and it seems to be pouring out all the lumens it has been hoarding for too long.

In a similar vein, have I been hoarding words in books? Too many of them sit on my shelves unread, but when I try to lay eyes on them for the first time, I’m almost invariably drawn away to words I’ve already read. I’m nearing my second go-round with two books I’ve previously pored over in their entirety, and I’ve started again on books I’ve cracked open before.

If I think of these words as messages in bottles, thrown out into an ocean of hope, I’m better able to be patient. The tide will always come back in.

What of my own words? Will they ever be found? I imagine they someday will, and since they are meant for no particular recipient, I’ll keep sealing those bottles with corks; I’ll keep walking out at low tide; I’ll keep letting the captured thoughts slip from my fingertips.