New York seems a distant dream...

Matt is lying on my bed listening to the Waterboys as we chat.
NYC seems a distant dream and we both wish we were back there, probably for different reasons!
"So peaceful!" says Matt- I know he is thinking of lying in Central Park under the trees in the shade with a gentle breeze cooling us off as he reads his books and birds scatter around us...
Me, I want to see all those things I couldn't with him- the museums, the art.
Stand in front of a beautiful Madonna and child, that still hold me, still move me, despite what I now believe.
Gaze in awe at the love of mother for child frozen through time on a canvas and wonder why this child has won so many hearts, so many lives over the years.
And think of the words that child was reported to have said, his acts that spoke louder than words.
When he bent to the ground, the crowd standing round expecting condemnation, a good stoning, he wrote instead in the sand.
What did he write?
Perhaps the name of each, and their hidden sins, crimes of the heart known only to each one.
Sins laid bare, for all to see, in the light.
And she who was stood there, exposed, scarlet letter on her chest, she was spared and forgiven.
Go and sin no more...
But forget not your sin, for it is part of who you were
And being forgiven, forgive much and understand much, so that others might too begin to see...

The message still resonates within...