Dark Matters

Big dark skies hang above me as the morning still has an hour or so to sleep in and the woods are filled like the heavens with small lights of sound.  In front of me is the smaller vastness of the river cloaked in dark matter but known by the occasional something breaking the water’s top like the ting of large, round wine glasses toasting love.  The world lives, my little Eden of it, and by grace, I sit again as unnumbered times before and are brought more alive by it.  Morning coming over several hours is like a classic black and white movie colorized by God, like when He first conceived of color and allowed His angels to play with it and they knew no bounds.  The fullness of the earth should be a part of every human's day when night births it, oh the gift of a whole new day brought to us in living color and as miraculous as that last breath you took.