Sunlight flows across the valley floor like warm water washing over and down the western walls.
So clean is the morning, these few minutes of welcome light that allow birds to sing and young deer to dance before people tear the scene with our noise and clumsy unawareness.
The earth and this valley welcome the sun, eternal cycles embraced once again, the brief celebration of life and creation quickly pirouetting through the columns of light and shadow before the noise of traffic and the din of vapid conversation send Life into hiding for another too busy day.
Already sun glares and noise blares, the sublime moment having slipped into abeyance, awaiting the next opportunity when Spirit can safely play.
The
ebb and flow of Presence is too gentle, too soft, to intrude upon our noises
and plans. It slips in and out of the lagoons of morning light as a
silken tide, each morning providing opportunity, each morning offering itself
for our healing and blessing, but never demanding that we accept its
gifts.
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