Did the cleaving hurt? It’s still obvious how the pieces fit, how it was meant to be. But something came between. Was it a gentle eroding, done over so much time that you weren’t aware it was happening until it was too late? Or was it sudden and more violent… a splitting with an ear-shattering crack that could be heard for miles and miles?
And now, with the irreparable space between, do you look across the chasm in longing? Do you strain toward each other, trying to bridge the gap? Is there a calm acceptance that the split came, and now is a part of the landscape? Or is there quiet resentment, a stony silence louder than any shout, sadder than any cry?
No matter, the connection will forever exist, living in the very membrane of the memories that flow between, whispering and gurgling, singing of the happy times, the soaring highs, the unspeakable joy. And here, in the dancing fluid of remembrance, we find that it feeds the one element that springs eternal… hope.
A Words and Pictures Project
The beautiful image that inspired the prose in this post was captured in Avalanche Creek Glacier National Park, Montana by Bruce “Chippy” Chipman of Concept Exposure. You can see more of his fabulous work on his website or follow him on Instagram (@conceptexposure). He and I connected on Twitter, so if you enjoyed this collaboration and have a moment, please give him a shout out there. His Twitter handle is @conceptexposure.