"drop by drop..."

‎"We cannot tell the precise moment
when friendship is formed.
As in filling a vessel drop by drop,
there is at last a drop which makes it run over.
So in a series of kindness there is, at last,
one which makes the heart run over."
- James Boswell

she was there,
standing
in the reception line
waiting
to shake his hand,
on the cusp of
something magical,

we were
there to celebrate a legacy...
an evening filled
with
heritage,
gratitude,
appetizers and
sparkling
cider
under a canopy of
lodgepole pines
strung with
starlight

her dress the
color of a clear
mountain
lake,
earrings that dangled,
and shimmered,
and
sent streaks of dancing light into the
soft blue dusk of Colorado
twilight
already fragrant with
pine dust and
aspen
flowers...

I took my place
behind her
and wondered
if the girls with flaxen hair and
pale eyes...or the boy who
held the youngest's hand...
were
hers...

they were

she smiled,
i smiled
a few words exchanged
almost thirty
years ago

the beginning of a conversation
that has bridged hopelessness
with compassion,
repaired heartache with the silver threads of
gentleness,
diffused frustration with laughter,
and softened the blows of
judgment with
unconditional love...

drop by
blessed drop...

a kindness here,
a smile there...

eyes that understood without
the need for explanation,
arms that comforted without
contagious sympathy,
prayers that saw me whole and
free of self and
sin...

drop
by
drop

song
by song

over the river and
through the woods, beyond the
valley,
across the continental divide,
sunrises
sunsets
snow storms and
the searing sunshine
on our
shoulders...

drop
by
drop

heart ache
to
heart ache

chapter and
verse...

a trail of
inspiration,
compassion,
salvation...

till one
day,
phenomenon...
the cup overflowed
with tea, and tears,
and laughter

enough minutes to
hold a lifetime
of
being silent in
the other's
company and having
it all
said without
a word...

miles of
singing with Carole King
about a life that's
been a tapestry
of
rich and royal hues
and
remembering
a dress the color
of a lake
in summer
and the sound of
silence
when it's
all
being said
without
words


"...and at last,
there is one that make the heart run over.”
― J. Boswell