Each day changes color, time visually escalating winter’s arrival. Hard not to grasp at its vibrancy, a state I dare not enter knowing time’s stand still quick-sands, when sorrow halts minutes from marching on. Hardly ever, scarcely never does time relent and stand still for beauty.
Yet~ delight opens visions beyond the instructive, obdurate day:
An untrimmable light hovers over and within tall grasses, bowed under last night’s rain.
I’m sure the Cadmium Red in leaves make them quiver. The wind changed course and I swear light shimmered and grew luminescent.
Despite the sun’s weakness, the barn on the hill still catches fire in the last afternoon rays, challenging the shadows of Vesper hour.
The Badger, as if called, rises from his spectacular hole to ponder options. We have a truce to live side by side, despite his over-large entry. He knew not to eat the tomatoes. Perhaps in time we shall grow to cherish one another?
Is this rich tapestry from God’s dreams, or what my eyes create? Are my eyes God’s Eyes, seeing with the eyes of spirit? Do you see what I see? Can I ever see what you see?
May I please stand still, not grasping, yet holding this moment as a prayer, better yet~a kiss. Let me pucker up for this one wild, ordinary~extraordinary moment.