The cloud bends low. Its outer edges form a whisper on the earth grazing the blades of grass that seem to be reaching up to it. Human that I am while watching this fragile moment in time, has me witnessing something that deeply stirs my soul and brings my heart to courage.
I close my eyes. I open them again. I want to believe what I have just seen. I want to believe that the cloud and the grass know one another, and knowing, care. This hope heals my loneliness, warms my cold isolation.
I knew about life before I came. I’ve been feeling quite alone and apart in a brilliantly colored prison, doomed to a world view that is meaningless—I’ve read the books and heard the sermons. They merely trapped in my soul and my imagination.
I sit on the side of the hill, a few little steps from an encounter that removes me from the ordinary of an illusion I will never believe in. I come from where my innocence is assured, my presence met with tenderness. The nature of my nature will never change. There is power even here that will never waver. Life has a loving solid heart. I know I have one too. I breathe and I recover my courage. I find my Grace in oneness.
A tear forms in my eye and I let it fall to cool the flush in my cheek. Soundlessly, the cloud, with a gesture that is not a gesture, dries my tear and brings me the Empty Calm I’ve been missing. I need no longer think, for the wonder of it all. Yet I can hear what does not need to be said. I had only forgotten.
Happily, my magic Pen has not. It always knows what to tell me about reality to share in a magic website designed to speak of these simple things.