Saturday, August 8, 2020

Sitting In Dawn

I sit in the dark, sweet night sounds making kind, being with me in these times, pre-day.  Even now to my four o’clock a deep chirping, as from the bottom of a crock, makes the woods a living room of sweet mystery.  A group of duck’s floats by, one white, sacred seeming and making me sigh at so much that is sacred and is a part of daily life.  I am awake and have chosen to place myself here because it is time to be with God.  That is a silent shattering of my reality and stills me to be awakened.  Fish break the grey-blue surface leaving circles, dream catchers, a dream here—a dream there and God is here but distant, present but overarching, inside but everywhere.  Yesterday my lover and I saw a rainbow, its base between a ridge and the Appalachians beyond.  It comes to my memory again as my beloved lies sleeping at my six o’clock.  It dawns on me that I am using myself as a compass pin and relegating my thoughts to Him alone.  It thunders quietly in the way off.  I sit in the dawn.  

 

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