the sound of possibility

I went and visited a couple of days ago, late in the afternoon. I walked around outside for a while, down by the river, almost scared to go in, to this house (this home!) of ours.

Then I snuck in. Tip.toe-ing. Nervous? Afraid to disturb?

It was empty. Calm. Quiet. And I didn’t know what to do.

So I went and sat. And listened. To the roof creaking, to the wind outside, to people walking past, to my own head and heart. To the sound of possibility.