Very early this morning, while walking along
the edge of first light, I became
conscious of a wonderous reality:
clouds falling on my
shoulders.
They dropped from the sky disguised as gentle
strands of water, light rain
polishing the streets and
reflecting, like a mirrored surface,
traffic lights and high beams
of passing cars.
Liquid cloud, best received as a gift
and worn with humility, is a touch of
grace that washes away
sanctimony and self indulgence
as it drapes a piece of heaven
around often reluctant
shoulders.
This morning, much to my delight,
clouds fell upon my shoulders
and wished me well on my
journey from darkness to light.
I was grateful for the
company.