The Crowd of Sorrows entered my house. I was polite and offered them tea. They humbly declined and wept with madness. Their pleas saturated my home and deafened my ears that my dogs hid under the bed. My children made themselves invisible. My chickens heard the ruckus and buried their heads in the soft dirt. My cat, as old as she is, tried to scale a palm tree. My tortoise ran in the ditch and almost flipped-flopped.
I told the Crowd of Sorrows to pack up their bags and leave at once. "This is pure madness!" I exclaimed. "Don't you know God is sweeping my house clean and making room for new visitors?"
There must be a space that is cleared out for the new to come in and announce itself.
I told the Crowd of Sorrows to pack up their bags and leave at once. "This is pure madness!" I exclaimed. "Don't you know God is sweeping my house clean and making room for new visitors?"
There must be a space that is cleared out for the new to come in and announce itself.
