Early morning and dark, a hushed reverence fills the air.  The pitter patter of paws follows me down the hall and to the kitchen.  Start the coffee.  Put on my long soft sweater and head outside.  

Stars shining bright and a few frogs still sing.  It’s too early yet for the birds.  Their time will come.  Jack has joined me on the back porch.  He likes the early morning as much as I do.  Or maybe he just likes to be close to me whenever and wherever that may be.  Jack doesn’t show up well in the dark but I know he’s there.  He nudges my hand and leans his whole self against me in his own special way.  

I’m grateful he’s near.  I am as sure of him as I am of the coffee waiting for me.  The strong aroma drifts through the crack in the door I’ve left open.  Soon the scent nudges me as certainly as Jack does.  Ready, it calls to me… I answer with a few footsteps easily made.  I’m grateful for those too.

Pull the cup from the shelf.  A dash of cream to soften the color.  A tad bit of sugar to sweeten the taste.  I caress the warmth coming from the porcelain with both of my hands.  

Back to the porch we all go – me and my coffee and my juice box named jack.  Oh, how that first sip delights!  While I gaze at the stars, I’m still fresh from the dreams that aren’t really ours.  Where do they come from? Where do they go?  Strong places and colors…my own picture show.  I watch it and feel it and live it as well!  Or, so it seems…

My foot falls asleep under Jack’s sturdy frame.  Another sip of fine coffee, my writing can wait.  He’s sleeping so sweetly.  I can’t bear to move.  And, my dream rings inside me like notes with a tune…

Such a storm! So much raging! Darkest gray and sheets of  silverish rain, blowing sideways flooding the stage.  The wooden pier that stands guard over the lake disappears under the onslaught. The man made path of sawn timbers giving way to a force greater than themselves.  But, the grass is just dandy! If anything, it only comes greener as the angry sky falls.

I watch from inside transfixed on the spot.  I am safe and quite sound.  Without shoes on my feet, my toes feel the ground.  Others around me but nary a sound. There’s a roof overhead.  I sense it above me.  I know that it’s there, keeping me in.   It protects from the rain,  far away from my skin.

It’s an odd thing…no windows to let the outside in…no walls to keep the outside out…no doors to be closed… Only ways to move through.  Easily about. There is a knowing.  The spaces, they mingle.  Ever so gently, they are not separate but rather one single.

Candlelight flickers bathing all that it touches with a graceful warm glow.  How it gathers and holds altogether, I don’t know.  It plays and it dances so joyfully on the creamy walls and dark wooden furniture.  Tables and chairs and doorways were all crafted from a reddish wood warmed over time by much use and great care.  Items carefully chosen that fill a home…

For,  home it is…warm and safe…a soft place in which to feel the storm gather round.  The sky above rumbles in response to the chaos it cannot control.  

But here, here is a safe place for one who seeks calm…just a heartbeat away.  At once looking outward and wondering inward.  

A tender gaze moves with me from room to room.  A strength of presence, I feel more than See.  It needs nothing it seems.  Asks nothing of me.  Waiting and peaceful in cozy small spaces.  Content…just to be close, close in my dreams.  Soul to soul, together and whole.

Why… why is there invisible grace…keeping roof on…keeping rain out…safe harbor for warmth…what I See and Think and Feel, so very different but each so very real.  

How comforted I feel! How warm and alive!  Protected and cared for…a light from inside…

In the wide awake world there are too many…too many doors and windows and walls…keeping me safe…yet holding life out…
It’s lovely to be in a place that doesn’t need them…if only for a moment…if only in a dream…

19 thoughts on “if only

  1. La seguridad del hogar y la tormenta rugiendo afuera, conozco esa sensación. Cerrar puertas y ventanas; esperar en paz que todo pase. Este sensación de paz y protección es muy particular, difícil de comparar con otro.

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