Celestial Connection

The quiet of the early morning,

some kind of meteor shower

out there,

hundreds an hour,

too cold for these bones,

to move out from the  blanket,

but imagining

flashes of ignited rock

across the sky,

brings a new comfort,

as the day begins to stir:

there are mice in the wall,

chimes at the  back window,

a car along the road,

and me here,



The celestial connection

to all that is,

and ever will be:







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