The joy is in creating, not maintaining. ~Vince Lombardi
Each page of my many love letters brings me joy, some immediately, orgasmic many like the prodigal are joyous during later readings when I can look back on what was in relation to what is, a long, satisfying marriage.
There is pent up energy in the first blush, vigor in the pen strokes, zeal in the ideas finding their way to the moon yellow surface gradually latticed with red or purple or pink or blue ink.
Is that the rabbit in the moon I see woven in the words patterns? No. It is my own smile reveling in the glory of virgin words bled for the first time.