My Love is really not my love.
It’s a fleeting moment of passing energy; where for seconds; sometimes minutes. . . we dance.
It’s a high that my ego tells me I deserve more dances.
It’s a privilege that my soul is so longing.
Must this love be one dance with another?
Or does this love flow through soul from the moment of consciousness as underlying joy . . . another cannot bring.
–Rev. Melissa Hill Greenbaum
November 21, 2023