If I look with the eyes of my angel soul, all I can see is angels and Home.  I am willing to be willing.

Trees outside the guest room, off the busy street that leads to the beach–I ask them.  There is a gentle wave.  They are old, twisted willow-type stantions that shield chattering sparrows.  Seasons are seasons.  No need to fuss.

When I turn my attention to the Divine, I recognize that She has been always been near me, smiling patiently as I twirl and swirl around distracted by the merry-go-round of human life.

Hello Dear One.  I am so glad to be here and now with You.  I relax in Your arms.