These Hours

These hours: 

it's one of the important themes here, writing about it so often as to make it seem the reason for my blog, and yet the joy I find in waking early, exploring my sense of presence through the deep silence offered through these hours - my writing still seems understated in description, never quite capturing how profound these moments truly are. 

but still I try, often, 

hopeful to write just a few inspired lines might do justice to these hours.

everything is tinged with mystery now, hushed, reduced to a softness existing only before dawn, no other hours bring this same sense of magic, primordial, invoking an ancient presence belonging to the inner landscape of the soul. Not an individual soul, but collective, our essence brought to surface through the thin hours found between the world of dream and our most ordinary reality. 

these are my hours of meditation, sun salutation, writing. 

invoking magic. 

and my day follows from this point on, a presence of joy never far from surface, available to more difficult moments that may arrive at later times. These hours stay with me, as it seems that once magic is invoked there is no return to a mundane reality, everything remains bathed in the softness of its recognition, thin hours throughout the day and at any moment a veil may fall and reveal the world as mystery. 

these hours inspire me, calling me to awaken...

as if my own presence that's invoked.

that I'm a quality of mystery.

known only through these hours. 

~

Peace, Eric