The air felt soft this morning, like the blessing of petals following a mid-summer’s rain. Beyond the horizon, a lilac hue – a herald of clouds welcoming, at last, this warmth of day.

In the moments before the entirety of world wakes, there is a tender pause — a space between the rise and fall.

Where breath reaches inward to will, and finding hope’s resolve cries out before all heaven and earth…

“My faith shall carry me forward – and my heart shall rise once more.”

In life we often disallow — tempering that voice which beckons the call. The one which serves to extend the soul, through the frailty and whim of life’s finer details.

And, yet somewhere in between – this stream of consciousness wraps and bends; a gentle break in which wisdom bows to divine ascension.

We are what we believe, and so much more — we are the voice that cries through softness of morn.

In peace, my loves…

Namaste ❤️