A treasure within a rarity

A man nor a woman is bad for going over memories in their past. It helps them grow to a better person. And today I felt released in a way.

A saw a sign of something that brought tears to my eyes. A question I had waving around in my head. It was a good piece of closure. And at this moment it was the best hug anyone could have given me.

Just that one piece soars beyond a level of knowledge.  If I could explain it I so dearly would. Yet I cannot. This part of me is tightly bound for a reason but that grand piece was the best part of my uplifting changes this week.

No words can describe the depth of love for a friend can be said. One rare thing, a passion of books. Outstanding that the answer was given and the magnitude of joy settles within my spirit. 

It gives my hope that life I had seen for such will be extraordinary and yet so down to earth. 

A treasure is a good book. 

Just like some friendships. We weave. We lean. We learn. We separate but we have the best memories. Not forgotten and always a grand blessing. 

A good story is always found in kindness. Is it Not?

I have always hoped so. And now in a tiny way I have seen so. This is pure joy. 

Kindness. Old friendships. Wayward but not forgotten. But so necessary to be strangers to see the beauty of life. 

And that,  my dear, you are. The beauty in the orange leaves that fall. I hope you gain the love you hope for and I want the best. Keep dreaming. Keep pressing for the art. It will free you.

I know this.