What I mean is that kind of day where the frosted rigid mind in the stubborn shadows is just inches away from the brilliant dawning of light.  The early bird is dancing the dervish song of twirling delight, the eastern horizon is an expanse of blue, coral, pale sun and deep purple mountains.

I am cold and the old dog and I walk slowly through the sleepy neighborhood.  I crave the edge of life–always have.  But some days I find myself sniffing for Her in the dark shade where only a canine nose finds Her scent.  Those human stuck moments keep me feeling futile and feeble.

Pulling in the fresh fragrance of spring birth, letting myself be led by the tiny sparrow’s operatic praise, I claim the Presence.  It is my claim today that She rushes fire through my blood, whispers Her love in my ears, snuggles my neck with tiny kisses, and laughs gently at my scared stories of dragons in the closet of my day.

“Lean on me,” She says, “and I lean into you, Beloved One.  Let me have my Way with You.”