5 a.m. meditation. Blue sky fills every cell of flesh, each with its own sun. But it is all one sky. Beams of the heart don't stop at the outline of flesh, they penetrate other bodies, distant hills, every grass blade and moth wing. Do I have edges? No need to wonder what a star is. Trembling drop of neuro-peptide soma-juice on an axon tip, dripping into a synapse of pain or delight. Just like the dawn reflected in myriad puddles after a Spring rain, I am the mud, I am the sky, I am the sun. And what is the sun after all? A golden sound, God's resonant quietness. This Sabbath meditation only lasts for one vanishing instant of eternal radiance. Yet afterward, these words linger on the breath: "Silence is alive. Space is awake. Emptinesss is a sea of diamonds, the rippling transcendental light of the body. Merely to Be is to love."

Photo by Erwin Buske, cherry blossoms at dawn, University of Washington

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