An amber radiance seeped through the late fall foilage diffusing an incandescent awe among nature's artistry unnoticed by those few who awakened to embrace her in an early morning run or walk.
Quiet light, rich rivers of harvest hues gently swaying, coursing, resonating with an invisible presence swept the canvas of space in which it was immersed in breathtaking gasps of being and beauty.
Quiet light, rich rivers of harvest hues gently swaying, coursing, resonating with an invisible presence swept the canvas of space in which it was immersed in breathtaking gasps of being and beauty.
Cathedrals of time and space lingered effervescently among the vibrant colors of light surging in the mystical morning prayer. Whispered before and within as it swayed gladly, freely in its unknowing, the morning prayer was its surrender to a calling of which it was unaware and yet fully engaged.
Ecstatically, the magical essence danced in the blurring misty vibrance of joyous being in which it surged, exhaling its own expanding self.
Yet still, like blind mice, the morning visitors saw not the cosmic prayer through which they ran, racing away from and as much as into the breath of life, lingering invisibly in the beauty and wisdom, an open window to eternity, waiting endlessly to be seen.
Yet still, like blind mice, the morning visitors saw not the cosmic prayer through which they ran, racing away from and as much as into the breath of life, lingering invisibly in the beauty and wisdom, an open window to eternity, waiting endlessly to be seen.
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