Finding fresh ways to write timeless truth.
It’s dark when I wake and I spend the first moments of the day in silent conversation with the divine. I have questions. Requests. But mostly I just bask in the holy presence. I’m sipping soy milky frothy coffee from a favourite mug as the eastern sky grows pink. I watch as the hues change
The sun rises and kisses the trees with light so golden it makes me believe in magic. And the hills across the valley are spring-green. And purple lilac buds grow plump. And yesterday morning I saw, too many to count, mountain bluebirds flit back and forth from the budding Virginia creeper to the lawn and back