Friday, October 21, 2022

I stand on a plain, exposed, upright. Let my back be firm, my eye single.

A maelstrom blows around me. Let my feet be rooted. Let my mind be unmoved.

The storms are my thoughts of tomorrow, my plans and clockworks. Thinking of what might be, I lose my mooring.

Let me attend to this day. Lord, let today crowd out tomorrow.

The wind whips, yet let me stand still with you, my dear sturdy Friend.

(Letter #2,691)