Robin barks at the riverbank

Robin barks at the riverbank<br><br>A child knows how to practice togetherness. <br><br>She practices with herself, making arrangements.<br><br>A secret handshake. <br><br>A promise to meet at the old oak every day at sunset. <br><br>At dusk, she makes the perfect call. “I’m here!”<br><br>No one answers.<br><br>She waits anyway. <br><br>Soon it is night. <br><br>Stars light up the sky like diamonds. <br><br>She holds her hand out, palm up. <br><br>In her palm, a diamond.<br><br>Soon she falls asleep.<br><br>In her dreams, she makes more promises. <br><br>This time, to herself. <br><br>To remember the handshake, the exact way it felt. <br><br>She dreams that she can hold her own hand. <br><br>In this dream, she is no longer alone. <br><br>She wakes when the sun rises. <br><br>She makes another promise. <br><br>This one, to herself. <br><br>To listen. <br><br>To hear her own voice. <br><br>Nearly every day, you wake up and promise again. <br><br>Listen to your own voice, always calling. <br><br>A child knows how to practice togetherness. <br><br>So do you. <br><br>Robin barks at the riverbank. <br><br>Pick yourself up. <br><br>Keep going. <br><br>Practice love, always calling, always saying, “Come here, I have been waiting for you!”<br><br>P.S. You are never alone. You are the answer to your own longing. And you have always been enough.