Dearly Beloved, Grace and Peace to you. The geese traveling their distances above you, the little swirls in the brook making their way to the ocean holding onto each other's tails, the green spikes pushing up into the light, the breath rising through you into song, the lifting unweight in you that leans out across the tiny sea toward another person,
they are all saying the same thing:
come, come with me,
___________________ Weather Report
Return, as all things gather from where they have been sown. Expect occasional flurries of longing, with scattered moments of recognition. One hundred percent chance of arrival.
Deep Blessings, Pastor Steve
__________________ Steve Garnaas-Holmes Unfolding Light www.unfoldinglight.net
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