The silky sheen of a silvery shadow glimmers out of the murky reserves of dark waters. You can picture it now, can’t you? Blink twice, then image the wayward loom of a twisting silver cord descending from the ethers into the skylight above your third eye. Ready for take-off? An ever-revealing something guides all things. Can you trust enough to surrender or are you a no-faith motherfucker? Bend gently into sleep, little feather. I love you.
* * * * * * *
Today: the deep red of pinot noir, a flower agate palm stone, music in the key of G, the soft hoot of an owl outside your window and the annointing spell of sacred jasmine.