Tuesday, May 13, 2025, 34* Sun
She came to visit last night after we had closed and locked the door, while the peepers were singing not as loudly as the night before. She came to visit after we had performed our evening ritual, had turned out every light, after we had made our way down the staircase past the cares of the day going deeper into sleep.
I wonder if the solar lights detected her mysterious being, did she require the light she was passing through to illumine what she planned on doing? She was so quiet the three did not make a fuss. It was easy to see this morning where she’d been, what she’d done. Her fingerprints were on everything shining in the rays of sun that would soon destroy all the evidence. The perfect mystery, or not. In the time when Lily of the Valley first appears, before ferns unfold, when daffodils have blossomed, frost continues to paint in the dark.
"No, explanation is not needed – only exclamation,
a wondering heart, awakened, surprised,
feeling the mystery of life each moment." - Osho
Art: LJ Austin
