I am home again, as in, I am inside the cabin after walking up the dirt road and fetching the mail as I do daily. Daughter, dear little one—she is sleeping in a crib she’s outgrowing. All over the earth there are children with mothers who think of other things while the babies sleep. Food to make, coupons in an envelope, philosophies and spiritual wisdom, how to refinish furniture, which strategy to implement to insure profitable returns, what diamonds look like in the rough etc. The mind travels all over the planet. We enter each other’s thought spaces. And just as I write this my little girl traverses the planet a few times in her dreams, and seeing that I have drifted away from her temporarily to think of other things, she begins to cry in her crib, signaling me to come and nuzzle her with affection.
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