the rolling fullness of the rising sun reflects anew in the rainbow glint of a dewdrop on the tip of a sharp blade of tender grass innocently offering itself. the final lilting call of the whippoorwill fades into the morning songs of the wood thrush & summer tanager; the sky brightens slowly, becoming a rose-gold temple. the morning brings divine opportunity to offer heartfelt gratitude for the simple gift of awareness. yes Shiva, tempt us with Your divine magnetic beauty as You shape Yourself into these many earthly delights! we shall gladly dance with You in the sweet glory of this timeless transparent increasingly radiant gold light. the rolling fullness of the rising sun reflects anew in our swirling turning rhythmic holy dance, dear Shiva of hidden charms & endless unfolding transformation. like the whippoorwill, our voices are silent in the soft downpouring light as our hearts lift like blossoms to the sun.
THIS HAPPENED 