I found myself transfixed this morning. A burst of light through pillars of wheat, showering the fields with an everlasting dawn.
“Dawn is the time when nothing breathes,” writes, Leonora Carrington “the hour of silence…only the light moves.”
There is a stillness that exists at such early hour – in which light and breath become seamlessly intertwined in their gracious dance of Hope renewed.
With a simple shift, all of life is revealed. The crimsoned berry through thickened brush; the whispered breath of morning’s hush.
I’ve been here before, at these crossroads – it seems. Where Wanderlust greets Happenstance – “How are you, old friend?”
In this space, I settle in to a new sort of knowing – where circumstance yields to life’s ‘greater plan.’
In her softened glow, I let it all go – the worry, the fret, the unresolved…
And I am made whole, once again.
This is the gift the light always brings – a stillness big enough to hold the peace within.