Wand

Grace of Sunday morning meditation. I don't know what "quantum" means. I am not qualified as a physicist. But I do know that the entire cosmos dissolves into a boundless chaos of sparkling photons, and these photons dissolve into the pure white light I Am. I know that the pure white light I Am vibrates through the most distant stars on the rim of creation, as in the particles of my own body, with a single intimate breath. And I know that this breath dissolves into love. I know that there is nothing but transparent all-pervading self-luminosity. And in the no-thing of love, the word "two" cannot arise. If there were an "other," I could not be whole. Yet, while love is formless, I know that it is not impersonal. Love is never merely a noun. Love is a breathing that tenderly returns my astonishment, reflecting an Otherness back to me so intimate, so caring and gentle, that Love's infinitude is doubled. Now I open my eyes and see the Beloved in a golden wand of honeysuckle.