The void is so puzzling.  that moment between moments where nothing is required, no need is hammering at the door, no sadness distracting, no anticipation jumping up in the room waving its hands.  Just the quiet.  How do those trees do it!?

I’m just not used to eternity.  Even though it giggles at me through the loose ends in my afghan, is in the waves of distant traffic, and stands tall in the tiniest tree.

I have volunteered for here and now and action and body and feelings and thoughts and “what’s next?”  No going back now.

Thus I reach out to the Divine.  I clothe Her in a heavenly soft shawl.  She wraps me in Her arms, whispers sweet nothings and everthings in my ear.  And I follow Her everywhere.