Solar Storm

    

Now a solar storm of beauty deluges the human heart. Distant galaxies are as intimate as the cells and molecules of your body. The ancestors gather round the fire in your chest. They are the very whisper of your deepest silence. The Friend is with you, even in the loneliness of midnight, even in the grief of the world. The linear logical mind cannot comprehend such Friendship, which does not come from outside, but wells up like a tear from the core of your being: the self-illumined radiance of pure consciousness. You cannot ever be alone, you know this now. Yet Divine Friendship seems so undeserved, so gifted, because it is not of your doing. This is why the intellect desperately resists the fierce onslaught of Now, experiencing the grace of Presence as a catastrophe, a loss. Old stories no longer work, because they try to place the cause before the effect, and the past before the future. You cannot build a bridge out of smoke. All there is, is the fire. Better to rest in the heart. The ocean yearns to be a drop.

Painting:Laura I Art Gallery