Writing.
A flood of words coming to my fingertips.
My brain processing faster than I type onto a keyboard.

Analog? Even slower output…
Oh, but the joy of the pen to the paper!
I might prefer it.
I might not be able to read it later.

Years old drafts opened.
Perspectives reawakened.
The sudden overwhelm of new input.
Quotes flowing from scriptures written on the tablets of my heart; bound (Provebs 7: 2-4).

Slow down.

The noise of the coffee shop about to welcome an evening crowd for Bluegrass music; drawing me to move from my head into the enjoyment of the present moment.

I think for now, I’ll sip another drink and feel the beauty of the tuning.

Hear the artistry in their sound.

Welcome back to Kentucky.