It is all there for me. I see it, sometimes as flickers or like vapours that rise from an August highway.  It is there. The things that I want and things that I need to feed my hunger, the music to my ears, the healing touch to my neck and shoulders, the sight for sore eyes, the scent of sultry summer nights and promise.  They are there.

Hope. Learning. Sharing. Loving. Fear. Anticipation.

Pathos.

They are there.

There is the same as here, they are just metrics.

My siren song, my beckoning – all gestures to allow there to become here.

Part of being resilient is being receptive to serendipity.

There is here.

Here is now.

Now and then, then is now.

– Harlon Davey, 2015.