Every once in a while there’s a gap.
A craving I cannot name.
An itch I cannot scratch.
I sit,
scrolling on my phone,
searching for books or a new tv series to begin, but, eventually,
and inevitably,
I slip back into a motionless stare that I don’t even recognize until
the stove timer dings, and,
there it is again.
The gap.
The gap between us.
The impermanent curtain hanging between flesh and spirit,
between here and There.
It’ll pass. It always does.
Note: This came out of a moment, or hour?, of staring into the infinite horizon of sky and earth. Initially, I thought I was missing my sister. Of calling her. With no particular need. Just a chat. But, as words came to page, I sensed it is also appropriate for this time of waiting in the season of Lent. Shared with love, and hope too.
The time is nearing. 
The rest of the story is that I did. And walk, and draw, and read, and write, and pray and eat. Oh I ate!
There’s nothing like walking up 218 steps, to 1,182′ elevation, to get the blood flowing. As I huffed and puffed and looked around from way up there (I know, I know – not much of an impressive elevation outside of Texas), I said some prayers for a few folks who I know are struggling. After all, it is called Prayer Mountain (as well as Mount Baldy).