The wind shifts through the trees. The sense of her is everywhere. Flowers smell in a sort of way that captures me and sets me right there in the center of all of it.
Whispers tear at my heart. Time is one the force that commands us all. The moon will come in second. A piece of the sun is in all of us.
“Try as hard as you can,” she sings in the spaces between the trees.
“I will, I promise.” I declare to the doves that spread the seeds. “I will not be afraid.”