From a journal i found today from many years ago, when i lived on the road between places, on a day when I was evidently living well:
I lived in potential, vision and possibility of life today, and loved it! That space, where faith and hope hang out; that place which vision requires, where we can be ourselves again. I lived the poem of my day! I was myself, and content with that. And I loved you more than I thought possible. I foresaw your best bloomings, and chose to water them into place with an overflow of love.