Witnessing Together

Frozen water splash in a rain barrel. (c) 10/2009

Twenty seven degrees this morning.

I walked to the cabin among fairy fingers of frost. A steel beam of cloud was levitating just west of the woodland. Sparrows flitted through the spruce in such numbers that the tree appeared to be shivering. The garden fence was Indra's net full of crystals and ten thousand open spaces.

I paused where the air seemed to shimmer. A sun mote rose in a prayer in the smoke from the chimney. The sunlight wedged in under the grey storm front. A spontaneous exclamation came as the stillness of the field glowed silver and gold:

"Look at that, God! Can you believe it? What beauty!"

God stood with me.
Both of our hearts
bowing to the beauty
of this day,
this one miraculous,
unique day.

I felt The Beloved
watch with me,
both of us
in awe, the painter
and the painted,
both colored
with a winter stillness.

Before I stepped out to the cabin this morning my sweetheart called me. She asked: "What are you going to do with this day?" And now I know...

Praise the space between sun and storm.
Praise the breath at the edge of the woodland.
Praise the grasses bowed with ice.
Praise the witnessing that is shared.

RSS