RETURNING TO THE WORLD
This is what you wake to: the world new blue, the
streetlight nearly moon. Your book is
done, or nearly done for now. The world that
waited patiently went silent. The dream
youāve tended through four seasons moved on to someone else. Itās the readerās dream right now; youāve let
it go. Mr. Marsworth. Reenie. Theyāre probably on a desk now in New York . Of all the writing seasonsāfirst glimpse, the
wild beginning, writing and rewriting, seeing new and starting over--this one,
this perfectly done day, this moment of new winter when you wake to new blue silence,
this ending as beginning, itās this season you love most. If you never wrote another word, you will have this. And isnāt that enough? How
beautiful it is. How faithful. How patiently it waited. How much it wants you back where you belong.
I got a shiver just looking at these pics, Sheila!
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