Easy Grace

An easy grace:

each moment has its own allowing, an easy grace of light and sound arriving in slight amount at first, a gradual pace of the day's unfolding. My own rhythm is matched to this, a quiet mood of self and world, and everything's allowed to reach me here, simply sitting, receiving every sound and length of light - an easy grace too it seems.

there's some magic here, to my sitting, this mediation of a days arrival, how the night gently parts its shaded hold to a brighter, more active world. Absolutely nothing is held for long here, no grasp of dark in delay of light's reach, just a perfect measure of each instant holding only what it needs before the inevitable surrender to what another moment's meant to hold.

in this early light I can feel my own darkness parting, slight at first, a gradual pace of light approaching grief, gently waking me to another day's promise. The magic is that this happens everyday without fail, at least some reach of light is always offered.

and something deep within me is so grateful to receive.

yes, each moment has its own allowing, an easy grace of grief and being thankful for the opportunity to hold any aspect of the world in its brief pass. That I served through this capacity, knowing a depth of love that endures far longer than a memory, an imprint all the way to the level of cells and farther still to soul - this is what the magic tells me, what the morning shows in its gain of light. 

it's all an easy grace of letting go...

and nothing true is ever absent. 

~

Peace, Eric