​I am not old.. she said
I am rare.
 
I am the standing ovation
At the end of the play.
 
I am the retrospective
Of my life as art

I am the hours
Connected like dots
Into good sense
 
I am the fullness
Of existing.
 
You think I am waiting to die..

​But I am waiting to be found

I am a treasure.
I am a map.

​And these wrinkles are
Imprints of my journey
 
Ask me anything.
 
~ Samantha Reynolds

So, if you are
too tired to speak,
sit next to me,
because I, too,
am fluent in silence.
 
- R. Arnold

​I take the seashell from my jeans pocket and rub my fingers across its silken, indented surface, shallow as my own open hand. 

This chalice, subtly shaped by some divine intelligence to allow water to flow in and out with ease, is what I aspire to become: a vessel through which feelings can pour in and spill right out again, without all the grasping and holding that obstructs the flow. 

"​Can I be as serene and simple as this bleached shell, rubbed smooth by wind and water, 

​receiving and releasing, filling and emptying and filling again, 

eternally receptive to the currents of life?"
- Katrina Kenison,
​The Gift of an ordinary day