Silent timeless morning, gray mist dances by dawn’s light, gracing all things with a divine glow. Faun you surprise me, transport me, awaken me to what is real. Large moist eyes rest as your soft mouth gently chews dew soaked grasses. My emotions pour, soaking me with love and appreciation. Leaving behind the boredom that happens when too much time is spent waiting for the next new convenience.
In this moment I feel the mist that moistens the deep dark eyes of the fawn, unlike moments before. Sitting quietly in the kitchen, steam from my coffee dances upon warm toast. I break my fast without reverence, without the mist that touches all things.
It is not my first instinct to let such mist dance in my heart and soul. With your dew soaked invitation I release into the mist. It swirls through my heart, mind and soul showing me that love is pervasive and ever-present. My Memory gifts me with sadness. Feeling the mist freely dancing places that gift before me. Its wrappings untouched I walk from it.
A dry wind comes to where mist swirled and floated. Again I an idle, less comfortable yet more at home. Another silent breakfast hot coffee warm toast, consuming with out nourishment. Words read, lists I plot and name tomorrow’s shoulds. My body feeds its self while my mind reads yesterdays news.
With in my heart I do not notice the unopened gift from which the dry dusty air flows. Submerged in hollow solitude, will my dismembered isolation be unveiled to me? The dust I choose to see has been my home. In the absence of comparison dust becomes mist with a questioning feeling that if followed would lead to the gift wrapped in sadness.
What is this fear wrapped gift? What blessings could there be in such an obstacle? To unveil the mist, this dense box must be opened. Dry wind blowing from its obscured interior blinds me. Apprehension burns my hands as I tug on its bow. Long deep breaths cool my hands as I acknowledge this unfolding. Tears come, gathering along my lashes, witnessing truth, cleansing my vision falling from my lashes my tears herald the mist. As acceptance morphs into forgiveness the mist grows thick around me.
Looking into the box my ego’s reflex to fire a spit hurling yell releases into a deep cleansing exhale. Such protests I am spent in making. Mist blooms deep within me. My heart opens to the cleansing waters of rebirth. Fawn, I have come to your calling, answering an invitation penned in my own hand, delivered in the chilly mist of morning, through the depths of your eyes.