She imagined her days
Spent listening to the birds
The sun shining down
The tapping of her fingers on a keyboard.
And although she knew this was only a dream
It made her smile anyway.
She thought herself a cloud
Sometimes dark and brooding
Soft, stormy, silent
And sometimes wispy and radiant
Luminous and turbulent
Always changing and floating
Drifting with the wind
Impossible to capture
Always admiring the sun.
For every horrible thing that has ever happened to me, I’d like to believe that something wonderful and amazing has come out of it.
A mismatched marriage resulted in two of the most beautiful and kind hearted children I could ever have imagined.
And everything else in my life – good and bad – has been overshadowed by that.
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