Rabbits are bounding around in the yard, and I hear a few deer munching leaves near my garden. Boy and girl squirrels flit and twirl up oak trees. This morning’s first light brought me sights such as these. This morning’s first light was so bright and inviting that I thought I might set it right down, in writing, because I knew you should be given fair warning in case you also like first lights, like this morning’s.
I emerge from my cocoon, born upon the shore of a small tree surrounded lake. A late evening light glows in the sky as tree swaying wind moves delicately through branches, and gently touches my face. The sound of water trickles itself through the threshold of quietness, and before me you lie petaled with blossoms by your side. I approach, and you smile open to me. ‘Taste’, I hear, so I taste, and find myself at large in the immensity of a womb seeded with stars, then once again descend into being, Glorious Angel.