tmbt: sycamore constellation
I awoke swimming in joy, a bright bright planet blazing in the western sky as the sun was beginning to pull itself up to standing in the east. She shown like the glorious Venus, and I thought of our different skies and of course, of love. I remembered how the Cruz del Sur captivated me and how the nebula seemed to make me drift a little off the planet, beckoning me away with their swirling, spiraling stardust.
I was pulled as if by gravity to the center of a small universe and laid down in your spot under the sycamores. I imagined your day and sent prayers of strength and fortitude, knowing only you can forge the sea of your own internal and external world. The gulls circled above me as the sun hid the planets and stars with her pearly blue sky and I thought, “They are misled.” They should be at the ocean. But, then perhaps they are. This ocean is a deep unending well of spirit and grace, sparked by passion and strength This ocean mirrors the expanse of the skies we do not share but have long long ago and will again. This ocean is a warm, salty home and I’ve bid you cast your net, drop anchor, and sway here with me under the sycamore constellation once again.