In the space between spaces, the gaps that require bridges, there is an oppressive silence where loss reverberates–an echo, a ripple, a vast filling of a canyon with something unexpected and not altogether unpainful.

The canyon is a river, the river is a process that carries us through whether or not we want it to, the flow of water, blood or thought continues involuntarily until it stops, which isn’t a good thing either.

But flow is flow, and unbidden it begins or ends or continues, and the quiet restores, repairs, even as it provides additional spaces between spaces, gaps requiring bridges, and other canyons and rivers.

You find yourself wondering whose process this is, and whose space of silence.

Sometimes you care, and sometimes you don’t. But you always wonder.

[June 18, 2008-Jerusalem]