The Burning Barrel

[michaelboy]

I used to sit under the Forsythia bush -- the one by the back basement door of my parent's house. I imagined that some day we would timidly trade the yellow flowers and then wander down by the burning barrel where we would count each ant crawling on my mom's peonies and so then we could reckon it was our entire world. Overwhelmed with desire or perhaps need, I would have loved you so completely.

What sometimes seems irrational, often isn't at all and recognizing weakness can also be one of our greatest strengths.