The page is marked by words that meant something sometime and now, again, a torn off strip of paper, a verse.

“God will make this happen, for he who calls you is faithful.”

‭‭1 Thessalonians‬ ‭5:24‬

The pages shimmy softly under the swooshing breeze manufactured by hovering above fan.

I read what I somehow had not read before, yet left the blue torn slip in this very place.

A poem:

“The World I Live In”

I have refused to live

locked in the orderly house of

reasons and proofs.

The world I live in and believe in

is wider than that. And anyway,

what’s wrong with Maybe?

You wouldn’t believe what once or

twice I’ve seen. I’ll just

tell you this:

only if there are angels in your head will you

ever, possibly, see one.

Mary Oliver

Believe.

Believe and see.