7am fog
there’s a moon up there somewhere
Barley, poor pup, looks suspiciously into the distance and sniffsIMG_1526
I nudge him down 3  steps 
“good boy, good boy!”
I say in a singsongy voice 
As if that embarrassing tone will convince him of anything
everything smells different in the fog
like dense wet incense
cold almost imperceptible fragments of the stream
That will seep into the mesh of my walking shoes
as I tromp on maple leaves the size of my body
inspissated on the clay floor319683_10151277187209666_1299499285_n
It’s all always been here, you know
The water
It has always been here.
Scientists say that not one atom has escaped into
the blackness of that star blanket
since the world was flung into orbit
Fog. Ice storms. Tidal waves. Toilet water. 
the River Ganghes. The glacial melt. Hangman Creek. The garden hose.
The past is the future is now. 
Today it is a ground cloud that frightens my dog
Tomorrow it will be steaming up milk for my morning coffee
I love that we receive such lessons
only by listening
by breathing
by praying
As if God assigned the elements as truth tellers for our lives
Pray, may wonder never cease
May joy break my heart like this
even and especially after I’ve been consumed in my own fire
thank God I am not alone in it!
Holding all this wonder to myself
would surely be too much perfection to bear
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