Mornings contain the signposts.
Informing our waiting bodies and souls That change is coming.
The mornings will always foretell
It is embedded in the very air
The molecules entering our lungs with each breath.
Mornings smell different, feel different, enter us differently.
In the space all around and inside us
A slightly new and different sun
Illuminating our day
Illuminating our way from where we’ve been To what’s coming.
The shift to a new season is barely palpable.
Then seems to rush, having been impatiently waiting.
How is it for you when the world suddenly shifts?
Summer sun is different from autumn sun
Summer has a feel, and autumn has a feel
And the change itself from summer to autumn has its own feel.
Like a great, giant slide, up up up we go….to the crescendo of the season And down.
The great falling down of the leaves and the air and the light
Season caressing our bodies and souls in a great eternal wave of change.
What is required to roll with the waves of life itself?
The ups and downs, always persistent
Relentlessly inviting my perceptions into greater and greater focus
Or un-focus.
As I behold the morning’s scent and light
I feel all of the earth shifting in front of me without my permission Or my assistance – Or my beckoning.
It just does.
Grateful I am that it does not ask me permission for any of this.
I would die in ecstatic indecision.