A Little Lynn

Today is one of those days where I cannot seem to "get enough" of my surroundings.
Theoretical conversation monopolized the morning, religion and society-the afternoon.
A few articles on the Arab Revolution of this brand new year accompanied my mid-morning snack.
I found it exciting. Never depressing. Breath deep and start a revolution, brothers and sisters. Speak from the heart.

In re-examining past posts, I have found I am more depressing than enlightening. We all start somewhere.
When life is in the middle-lane of extremities, it isn't often that we find inspiration.
At least that's true for me.
While on the midway, I let all aggression and passion fall aside, typically that is. Obviously not so much today.

In an attempt to recently examine those things in which I have found contentment, I can only find one: a soul much younger than my own.
She's not my goddaughter, though I call her so.
Nor is she my niece, though I wish I could say so.
She's a little acquaintance, a little soul that's taken up more than her fair share of my heart. She brings me home.

A home I'm not familiar with, is what's so strange about the comfort I find here. Waking up with her-hearing her little talks with the cats from the office and her make-shift bed, as well as the giggles at what are, I'm sure, her invisible friends, is fulfilling...even at 6 AM.

She is not my own. Not of my flesh, not of my blood, not even of my hair color. But her heart, her tiny little heart that moves that belly up and down so rhythmically in the night, that heart is one I refuse to abandon.

It is often in life, or so I have heard, that one finds herself in a predicament that cannot be solved. This little angel, this piece of karmic bliss, is that predicament.
Complicated and over-pursued have been my efforts to make a change in the small soul's life. Whether I have done more than teach her the names of the three furry-minded creatures creeping on my counters and bath, only time will tell.

The real question, resides in the organic bloom of the issue-which is ironically, the last piece of the puzzle.

I suppose it will not be until years and decades from now that I will know whether she was as inspired by our time together, as I have been.

Fear not, we shall not lose our time together, little one.
But things are changing, and I can feel it down to the core of my most flexible bone.
Change is never easy, but I'm often reminded it's the only constant we have.
And if that constant keeps us together, then believe me sweet girl, I have all the time in the world to dedicate to you.

I do not know if praying would keep her with me.
I do not know if anyone would listen-for I have not listened or devoted much in so long-simply because I cannot bring myself to do so.
I have no more reason than that.

Yet, as with all things, some fitting conclusion will appear.
I haven't much of a choice, my dear.
Please stay in my heart.