There is an angel in charge of cloud scribbles right before dawn.  She sends out her best devas who soar across the sky and leave divine designs in the soft blue.  They are the opening act before the starlet appears, sending swatches of coral strokes and delicate calligraphy across the sky.  Then they sit from a cafe above a glacier on the Little Tahoma ridge watching their art work morph and spread like watercolor fades into the day.

Seagulls patrol the soccer field evenly paced and intent.  Honking geese beyond the ridge trumpet the path of the season.  Trees are still lanky, spindly and bare.  They don’t understand “hope” with their inner workings of inevitable green.  Festering red hairy buds bumpin out of rigid empty branches.  This is life continuum–empty,.full and all that is in between.  Then from full to empty again.

What a gift to see beyond the mind-imposed duality, cause and effect nonsense to the everpresent alpha & omega point of the now.  It is only dawn because I stand right here and catch the sun’s easy constant stroll over the globe.  Even more delightful–she never moves!  It is me twisting and turning, dancing and orbinting her that creates my round square dance of being.

Let’s dance!