Out in the backyard of our sadness,
The loss of our heart’s love, Robin Williams.
We can glimpse a barely visible line.
Maybe the line between the highway and its shoulder.
A new understanding for those DOT bumpy markers.
We each have our genius, sometimes a hidden talent, but how to make it bloom.
This talent requires focus as we leave this funeral and practice accountability, transparency, humor, and support.
Then we can adjourn to our seats in the front row of life’s amazing theatre where our inner parts attempt to entertain by scaring us that we are in danger before humoring us. Just as the storm precedes the rainbow, storm chasers of the soul advise we remain firmly seated, clasping each other’s hand.