Thursday, March 19, 2015

I drove my daughter to school today, and then turned toward home. The sun was just coming up over the mountains, surrounded by clouds. Oh my Light, a sign of my Beloved appearing!

I wish I could have captured with a camera, the cloud of glory rising, how I spied it again, gleaming between the splitting branches of a birch tree. It was the sun, and it was more than the sun.

And yet this was a sight which could not be caught by any gaze except that of the heart, a flower pressed between the pages of an eternal book, waiting eagerly for such a ray of morning. "White Aster! I am here!"

How long we have kept our secrets--and how much longer we shall keep them, only the sunset can guess.


I let you go, but you remain where devotion lingers with leaf-curtains drawn; and dreams gather in pools of verdigris; where c...

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