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Crossing the Torrent
Sometimes when you’re stuck, you just need to build a bridge
I’ve written with increasing frequency about unhappy subjects of late. Like a flood of epic proportion, they have overtaken me — and, it seems, most of us. Death, sickness, natural disasters, and so much more.
I want to quit dwelling on the negative things before me.
I have, just tonight, realized anew that I have been standing — figuratively — at the water’s edge, watching the level rise. Mesmerized by the current and its power, I have awaited it’s inevitable surge above flood level.
And, watching the flow, I suddenly hear music.
No, really. Music.
Away, I’m bound away,
Across the wide Missouri.
I suppose it’s no coincidence the words to the old folk tune Shenandoah are coming from the speakers on my desk right now. No, I didn’t select the song; it just came up in the playlist the streaming music service delivers while I sit at my computer.
When I say no coincidence, I mean I probably needed a nudge in the right direction.
I can take a hint; I’ll head that way momentarily.
