Embodying the perfect autumn warmth, a divine stillness, devoid of mental chatter, other than a faint hum of the river of cars flowing along the town’s bypass, and the gentlest sound of a disintegrating wood chime in my cherry tree, whatever else happens in the world is another dream.
For such moments I am grateful, when peace settles deep, as a safe island in the psyche to return to, a manifest microcosm in the vast and unknown macrocosm.
As such, I witness my imagination, which occasionally turns transparent in the heart, as a veil for what is hidden. For in light is also darkness.
Course of Mirrors 