Glory in this moment.
You are the richest human, your currency the pine needles on the tree, the clover flowers in the yard, the sunlight sparkling through the pollen, the rain slapping against the tin roof, the air within/without/within/without your nostrils. You are the richest human.
Give generously, share abundantly.
Let it echo across the wilderness of your chest cavity. Let your hollowness be known—to yourself, to anyone.
Your bones have been crushed, are being crushed, will be crushed. They will be mended.
Or they will not be mended.
Or they will be mended and then crushed again.
This is what you signed up for with your first breath, and the pact has been renewed with each breath since.
In all, see —-
be glad —-