In the residue of memory…

“I wake in the middle of the night to dead silence. The stars have vanished. Am I dreaming? I have the sense my body is beached, embedded in warm sand. The ripples of my windpipe, ribs, and spine hardly break the mackerel wave of the sand dunes around me. From here I could keep very quiet and watch the world…The pilgrimage is complete. Life is a barren waste to cross and along the way we’ll see dancing mirages that confuse us and a few scattered wells from which to draw our hope. But we throw ourselves into the journey and when it’s done, even while having learned that all experience involves the loss of something beloved, what is left in the residue of memory is love” –The Zanzibar Chest (a MUST READ)