Expressed As Awe At The Grace of Mystery

I'm not trying to prove anything, no offer of uncommon knowledge, nor reason unavailable to others - my words here are simply a brief encounter of an empty page and the willingness to wait for words, to see what the moment awards to patience. Sometimes I'm given what seems like a deep truth, an insight concerning my place within and as nature, a seeing of myself through an openness of clear perception. Writing of this is a way of giving thanks, gratitude in many words and all expressed as awe at grace of this mystery. Yet none of this is proven true through the writing of it, nor do I need to know if this is so, or just a temporary flash of intuition guesswork. My truth is always expanding and never more than momentary - I know, that I don't know. From this point than, it's all art, arranging words in hope of some sort of beauty, an attempt to do justice for the gift of this aware moment. If this is a shared experience between us, a connection made by words through space and time - than perhaps we have, indeed, proved something.

~
Peace,
Eric