The trees wave.  The ocean waves.  The breeze waves too.  Maybe that’s what human life is all about–riding the waves.  Up and down, back and forth, in and out.  Just riding the river–sometimes in rapids that threatens oblivion, sometimes so slow it pretends to be boring.

I think it’s in that pull back that I get impatient, wondering what I’m doing in the fallow valley.  I forget about movement and the rhythm of my breath and the seasons.

Let it be today like a cradle.  I will rock and roll with the bus, the calendar, the phone, the meetings, the rolling of the sun from one side of my day to the other.  She has her hand on the small world where I rest, pout, scream and giggle. If I can be still enough, I can hear Her sweet lullaby that makes the stars dance.