I love it all.

When I was young, I truly knew what it was to love. To swim

dreamily in and out of childish fantasies, bathed in the golden

rays of an eternal sun. I loved it all. The searing heat of summers

that begged to never end and the cold frost of winter that clawed

through to my soul. I loved it all. I loved each person I met in differing

degrees, some I loved for a day, some for an eternity.

I loved to talk. To strangers, to people I had known my entire life,

to people I would never see again. I would never know their name.

I loved to sing as I walked, skipped, ran and jumped. To sing so

loud people would stop and stare. I didn’t care.

I loved to stay awake all night, to watch as the moon ruled the

skies, her light showing us the dying stars. Then to sit, body humming

as the sun reached up and yawned into a fresh new day. Her

yellow arms reaching through into the deep depths of a blue sky.

I loved it all. I loved to wake I loved to sleep. I loved to explore

new corners of my battered, broken home town. I saw beauty

in each step I took, I saw beauty in each hand I shook. I loved

it all. I love it all. I love all that I touch. All that I see. Perhaps

for a second, perhaps, for eternity.

Karen Hayward. (c) 2015.

3 thoughts on “I love it all.

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