The Well of Imagination

When I type a single letter, seven people come up. My eyes see their faces, but my heart sees their stories.

The first, I love, but let go of.

The second, I love, but cannot be with.

The third, a wonderful friend, whose struggles I take as mine.

The fourth, a brother, more devoted than I imagined.

The fifth, a sister not by blood but life, my helper and adviser.

The sixth, another sister through life, my comforter and shoulder to cry on.

The seventh, a friend I did not think would become dear, but brought close through crisis.

Each one of them is dear to me, and I have the greatest “J” of them all to thank for bringing them into my lives.

When I type a single letter, eight people come up. My eyes see seven faces, and my heart sees seven stories.

My soul sees one savior.