The storms pass over again, and we are spared. No power loss. No trees down. No damaged roof. No hail-damaged cars. No flooding. No injuries. No deaths.
This time.
Storms will continue passing through, though. Tonight they passed over. One day, they may pass through, instead.
This alone is reason enough to reach out to the unspared among us. One day, we and they will trade shoes.
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Love Song
Love is like a radio
Broadcast to a halo
No cowboy could lasso
Or hog tie to zero
Love’s what slips the knot
That tightens into thought,
Transforming what is not
To being what is sought.
A riddle has its blues
Like taps upon the shoes
That beat out crooked clues
To love the one you lose.
[Disposable Song May 4, 2011]
Dr. Mike
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