
What do we build in our lives? A bridge? A fence? A pathway? Often I feel as if I am building a fortress, stacked high with unreturned phone calls, missed opportunities, fear. Time alone. The fortress, under the steel grey sky against which we seek a ray of light. The streets are cold and damp, yet one comes upon a towering pine. Life, in its soft greeness, seems a gift, a blessing. In the greyness of the sky there still contains a hope. A hope of some fulfillment in this life.