Not what arrived in your mailbox or where did you go for lunch.
I don't want to hear about the backlog at work or what happened in the car wash.
The new kitten's antics are delightful, I am sure.
But that's not what I want to know, dear one.
The fourth visit from the refrigerator repair person must be exasperating, of course.
And the plans with your cousins to see the fallen heartthrob's eternal show in Vegas would be a wonderful story.
I am sure.
But that is still not what I want to know, dear one.
My heart wonders, and it wants to know, my love.
How is it with your soul, today?
Is the long forgotten dream peering from behind the list of things to do, asking for another chance?
Does longing throb in your fingertips to make or create or do?
What about grief, is that what I see? Glistening from the crease near your eye?
Is that twitch of your toe an untraveled trail, waiting for your steps?
Because I wonder, my dear,
how is it with your soul today?