From The House of Edward

Wings

The beating of wings is a deafening sound for those who have ears to hear.
Like a flock of wild birds, the days of the decade are flying away - rising up like a cloud from the floor of the forest, lifting away from the hot desert sand. A boiling eddy of hours encircling my thoughts, soaring high in the air to vanish forever in the winds of December, destined to land on the unwritten page of history, to light in the unsung verse of song.
What shall we make of this bevy of days, soon to be gone from our sight? A fractious brood, without question, with more than its fair share of raptors within, scattering darkness and mayhem throughout these ten years. But also amongst them were sweet swallows and doves, the everlasting wisdom of the owls, the song of the robin on a clear morning in May.
It is a bittersweet feeling that sits in my heart as I watch them mount up to leave this old earth.
But now, look! Just over the clouds I can see them!
Drifting down from the heavens through the ringing of bells comes a fledgling congregation of hours, a happy assemblage of days - flawless, clean, each and every one a sparkling second chance. As they land on our rooftops, and light on our shoulders, may we welcome them all with the wisdom and grace we have gathered together from the days gone before.
May we share the love we have been given, may we listen much more than we speak.
May we live with hope and with purpose.
May we walk in beauty.

May we show tolerance and kindness to our fellow travelers on the way.
And may we have fun!
A Happy New Year to All!

“My idea of man's chief end was to enrich the world with things of beauty,
and have a fairly good time myself while doing so.”
Robert Louis Stevenson