this is not the first time I have disappeared into something beautiful.
When my knees are just slightly lower than my hips, where I find myself perched in the morning dark, sometimes moon there through the window as I glance up, takes my breath away. Some days I can begin with my heart ready to stop. Some days there is that taking of my breath that changes everything. Everthing.
The brush that sweeps across the canvas
The most perfect yellow.
It is there I am lost
Gone to anything that is here now.
This moment is God.
No words mean what is felt so no words emerge.
Yet all the same you must know, this moment is Divine.