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Another Time

In a world, not so far away, sunlight yawned over the drenched hilltop. Its light, magnified by the wetness of grass and wild brush. The trees gently swaying, a morning stretch to mark the start of the day.

Though just a block from home, this hill is somehow otherworldly. It harkens my mind to fairytales and dreams. While my body continues to briskly pass by, my soul lingers, captured by the light, thrown from the floor of the hillside. Everything sparkles, illuminated by dawn.

In some other time I would lay out a blanket. I would lie myself on the hill and become another being capturing and casting the light from its surface. I would absorb the warmth of the rays, feel the gentle brush of breeze. But instead of awakening as the hill does, I would sleep. I would close my eyes and float away.

Away to you, to rest, to life and abundance. Though the air carries no word, I would hear you speaking. Words without sound, life without expense. Simply being. No exerting. Your presence sufficient to sustain and bring value and create wholeness.

t.

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