Acting candles in the quiet of the room. I watch them still and dancing, much like the hurry and halt of my heart. Here rests this body and mind. I attend both with awareness. It truly is a flicker of attention, of time, easily overlooked.

Space walks me to the candles. A threshold I dare cross with love I cannot speak, nor hold, nor shape beyond my lips.  I trust the light to wake color in the dark, I trust the morning to wake my body, it has not missed a day. I follow light into dark, the candles gaze at me, shadows cast on my face…where lies the trust that beckons life into every moving cell in every moment?

I know it.

I slow it. Feel. The passing of the snow yields the meadows lush and green. I follow. A ray inside a candle’s glow, the warmth of my heart beating, a rush I lay myself into like light flowing rivers, not once stopping to look for purpose, no distress in forging through earth and rock, and only the sky above. No hurry bending time or needing, wanting, chasing. Just the onset of life, ripples on the path, kind and soft like skin and muscle holding trusted sleep with eyes shut. A babe in the light, in the dark, remains when the candles dissapear, remains when breath loses its composure, remains in the outflow of past and present – is, truly.