In the piles of leaves that crumble beneath my feet,
as I walk up stone paths with you.
So much is here, as the sun sets on us.
So much proof that you are here too.
As we walk through the park at dusk,
I pick through all the fallen leaves.
Somewhere among all this I know there is color,
even in the dark.
Somehow you have fought the winter,
even before the first frost has arrived.
Week 43. The Witness
My brother and I went walking through a park in the early evening, when the sun had just set. I could see that the leaves had all turned brown but I was still trying to find some colors in the piles on the ground. That evening I was amazed at how much stronger my brother seemed. He had finished his last round of radiation treatment days earlier and seeing him still so vibrant and inspired comforted me. Slowly he was finding his passion for life again. Even in his frail state we talked like we always had before, about new ideas and funny things we had noticed about people. This was a new life I was seeing immerge and I felt as though I was a witness to a miraculous event.