There are a thousand small distractions, each one taking me moment to moment.
Dishes to be washed, children to be fed.
Yet always……
in the farthest region of my heart ….
is a longing, a smoldering fire waiting to be sparked back into flame.
I wait….
aching for your return….
a brush of your hand on my face….
or a whisper in my ear.
I seek distraction again to ease the pain of waiting…
waiting…..
Beautiful. A language so many of us understand. xoxo
Thank you dear friend.
the longing of our heart clamours.
Thanks for stopping by Joss. ><3< Peace
Even with a longing one has inner peace; trusting in the higher power.