I like the thought that if we keep trying, things will get better. I'm not always optimistic enough to wear it, though. How strange that a thought that's a matter of course to some might break over the horizon of one who is in the dark like the dawn breaks the night. Like love broke death.
I dreamed Jesus was showing me a spiral in a dark sky. At first the stroke of its outline was course and unarticulated with only a single revolution. As if synchronized with a silent drum beat, the spiral kept changing. With each beat its form developed, became more refined, incorporated fine details as an intricate order came to be, as the number of revolutions grew, the strokes became finer and deeply feathered with fern-like rhizomes. I wondered why I saw this, perhaps it has something to do with perseverance, another quiet voice whispering "don't. give. up."