Enshrouded in the dense dawn, the dog and I went, step by step. Past the thistle.
Over the low bridge.
Threading benevolent arms and gulping autumn perfume.
We stopped to celebrate pine cones atop ginger blankets and sip from the creek's donation. Only the chickadee sang. And my heart became voluptuous, spilling all the sentiments I meant to save. In a single moment, the lips of our ground and sky did not touch, extending the horizon beyond that which is knowable. The past refused acknowledgement and the future waits undetected behind the unraveling veil. There was only now.
and I was embedded in the individual notes of love's whispering breeze
How does one return from the threshold of eternity . . . the silence of perfection, the integration of all outliers? I have all day to live the answer.
At home, the candle burns and with it, words become flesh as I utter and scribe and reach and hold.
my endlessness exposed - the thin places beg and we arrive
We are the source. Joined to the ineffable. And the invisible hand is implicated as we awaken one another. Verily, verily. . . we are enveloped in a sensuous world – Our Home.