Gathering

The vivid colors in this morning light. Alchemy in the dawning. Lifting up cares. Wrapping in warm moment. The gift of the walk in the altar of the world.

In every state - a song. A gift.

After buckets of wind… glorious and gentle - washing rain.

The morning song calls to a walk. Out the door… up the road… into the far vista. There, poems and melody… dancing on the dawning.

Called to vista. To miss a vista mark. To stand far off the mark… then, sudden, moment. A gift. Jarring? Perhaps. And wrapped in all moment. A gift indeed.

A song of the rose.

A little blurry… of a song.

Song.

Dancing songs of dawning. Clouds rolling on the wind. Sun singing into the day. And it is morning. A great gift… it is morning. The dark full dreams… the wrapping warm dark… and sudden… it is morning.

What moment? Of moment.

Chill morning. Wind machines in the valley. Drawn into day. Drawn into day.

A song on the sky… in the mountains… as wonder.

Dawning. Wind and dawning. 3 with 4.

Notch and the dawning. A song pouring through.

Wisdom stones… the dancing wind of the dawn… whistling through. The tune of dawning. A gentle jig…

A song on the wind. This day, it does not batter. It merely dances and spins. The dance… as mountain stream. Walking in it… there is bubbling laughter. The shades of those passed on, singing in care, from the other side of the veil.

Such song… wrapping in care. The longing rising as we hear… this day.. wrapping. And, in dance, the wind calls counterpoint.

A gift on the harvest wind.

A moment. Fragment song across mind.

Of sun on weathered rose.

Of a song of dancing clouds.

Of dawning. Of the sun and melting away. Of tractor time and a walk in the world. Of vista moment. Of a gift of this moment. Of thanksgiving. Of a song on the morning breeze. Of a note… high up. A note, calling.

A song of the glowing mountains. All gathered up in gathering.

A song of paradise. Close up, these birds do sing. A gift of a song.

Calling. The clouds are calling.

Thankful. Vista, memories, wonder. All wrapped in so many tendrils of care. To each and all, thanksgiving.

The light. So beguiling. Gentle the morning.

A song of morning. Drops of rain a distant, blown away memory. An echo of a poem… a gift of a dream fragment.

A song on the raging, dancing wind. Boiling in from the east. Making sure no burning pocket of puddle remains. Scouting for every burning puddle. A song of the wind.

Of a sudden burst of song.

A bit of play.

Songs on the winds of dawning. A gift of songs. A gift of winds.

Pulled up and invited into the morning. Pulled up and feeling the welling feels of connection. In this great silent moment… welling, connection, weaving.

The wind is a song this day

A song for the roses. All gathered up in gathering.

A song of the morning. Gentle and slightly shaken.

Evening into morning. Days apart… dancing in the spiral of time.

Into day.

Song of morning. All gathered up in Gathering. A gift.

A song for this November morning.

There is a deep symphony in this morning vista. There is a single melody also there is all creation romping into day… in a moment. A gift. On this Halloween. Hearing the souls who walk along with. A gentle weaving on this pause between two mysteries. As gentle moment in the numinous pause.

Night into morning. Dancing clouds and singing wind. Stark light of moon and sun.