We are children of the Universe.
We are children of the Sun.
We have star stuff inside us.
He smiles and squeaks with joy and squeezes his whole body in emotion.
Mmmm! Yes, we are children of the Universe! He says with eyes wide, full of assured knowledge.
We go on a wintry journey into the woods in our minds, with tall bare trees with towering finger branches laying regal pathway for the angel in our midst…
She is only to be seen by those who would see, look.
Blue pastel sky, clouds like strokes on canvas in primary class, and with the same divinity, too.
Embroidered by grandmothers is her robe of knitted patterns sparkling with a mist of brightness around her as an aura.
Into a dark and blessed adventure She takes us, through stars of rainbow eternal sparks and diamonds in our eyes on waves of deep black and blue and ever-ness.
Mist and mystery holding us like warm wool blankets sewn together with care in the nighttime, with knuckled and gnarled hands from the labor
of giving
of harvesting
of caring
of feeding
of slowing
of loving
hands that hold us in winter in dark dreams that grant us slumber that’s needed like cocoa butter for our dry souls that’s needed for our dry skin cells to
to replenish
to renew in dark places
holding light inside and warm embraces and cuddle-just-a-little-longer
because it’s winter and our feet are frozen like ice cakes we can’t eat and our hearts may be a bit weary
So we hold each for another full 30 seconds
of Love.
JEO
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