In the somber evening of this overcast day,
while walking among the ancient sentinels
at the base of a shadow etched canyon,
I felt the touch of a single droplet of
moisture on my arm. Slight touch.
Gentle touch.
The stately saguaros turned to watch my reaction.
A gray dove, snuggled in the arms of
a weathered mesquite tree, offered a
deep throated purring sound as a gift
to the moment. Her audible murmur
resembled what I imagine a smile would
project if he could be heard.
Instead of beading and falling to the
ground, the transparent droplet spread
in shape and size, moving toward my hand.
I stopped. Everything stopped. The universe
paused. Creation took a deep breath and
witnessed an extraordinary encounter. A
single droplet bathed the moment and me.
One drop from the enormity of universal
Mystery, from a Heart that in the sacred
moment beat in unison with my own,
one miniscule, momentous drop
caressed skin and soul with exuberant
awareness, unsteadiness like the plates
of the earth shifting, deep joy, startling
connection.
One small drop of Grace is almost more
than a human being can bear.