Finding the Words, the Beautiful Words

This morning I wanted to remember Kahlil Gibran’s writing about children because I have been feeling lately like a life raft where all the people who were hanging on have swum away but they don’t want me to pull up anchor yet because they might need to come back and it was that feeling of needing to know my place that made me get up and find my old copy of The Prophet.

Mine was given to me by a strange friend in college. She wrote long quotes inside the front and back cover, things she thought had meaning to the two of us. I think she was a little in love with me. She was very short with long hair, parted in the middle. She lived two doors down in my dorm with a woman who was also my friend and who played the guitar late into the night…