we know its curves well. if they could whisper, they would share the secrets of our conversations – conversations of the last decade – times calm, times fraught.

if the curves could speak, the dirt we have kicked up with our boots would sputter and cough, spilling how many painful moments there have been on this trail, how many times one of us has wept.

if the curves could speak, the underbrush just to the side of what is worn down would rise and wave verdant leaves, singing about our triumphs or the laughter that has ridden the wind just above us.

if the curves could speak, they would talk of the ping-ponging of decisionmaking, decisions discussed, decisions debated, decisions made – all on this trail.

if the curves could speak, they would mournfully tell of regrets, of disappointments, of trauma.

if the curves could speak, they would opine on our opining…of health, of politics, of purpose, of relationship, of faith.

if the curves could speak, they would – with glee – share the tiny goodnesses they had overheard, the learnings they had witnessed, the big abundances they had eavesdropped.

if the curves could speak, they would brush the air with words that describe something fluid, something everchanging, something they have helped to not be rigid.

if the curves could speak, they would wordbubble with every shape and form of love, spoken and shouted, sung and murmured.

if the curves could speak, they would give up our secrets – every last one of them.

but the curves cannot speak. and they hold close our hushed voices, our loud voices, our confusion, our tears, our anger, our laughter.

they could not know how much knowing them has aided us, comforted us, pushed us, reassured us.

and i suppose we could not know how well they know us.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo