I am slow.  It seems that I’ve always been slow … and that looks like my future too.

These days I’m slow of both body and mind.  It’s not that I can’t think things out.  It has nothing to do with reasoning, with analyzing.  Rather it often feels like there are spaces between my words, a lingering in the conversation.  And it’s not that I’m speaking more slowly. 

Occasionally the letters themselves start separating from each other and float away.  So LOVE may drift off as O … E … V … L – no longer a word.

Perhaps this sounds to you like an emotional breakdown.  It’s not.  Sometimes I’m taken into the sky, watching the alphabet float by.

Much of the time, of course, I’m grounded in the “realities” of daily life.  But then there are those other times!

When poetry replaces prose, as the words bubble up and flow together …

When my feet wander a few centimetres off the ground …

When all of life and its inhabitants pass by in slow motion …

Sometimes I contract, and tell myself to speed up.  But I’m getting better at ignoring that squawking.  There’s a softer voice, with a built-in smile, that wants to be known.

That’s who I trust