This episode came to life a month before my newborn son. Inspired by friends, poets and writers I mused over the words to offer my son as he packed up his belongings from the dark warmth of the womb and worked his way into the shivering light of humanity. Finally, I put ink to paper. Once complete, the following letter laid in waiting alongside the clutter of discarded receipts and grocery lists. The sacred and profane cohabiting on my night stand.
Weeks later, my son was born. Upon his entrance into this world, the world’s response was immediate and in kind. Thunder clapped and rain poured in the desert. It’s strange to be here. The Mystery never leaves you alone.
Here is that letter to my newborn son.