The veil touches down in the thin place where past kisses present, a delicate sweep of air — sheer mystery. I walk into the fog, formerly familiar, now lit anew, the road reimagined. Where will it take me? Breaking sun, backlit branches, stream through my reckless heart. I consider day and night, their insistence on gathering each dawn. Death and life, not opposing forces, rather elbows latched in harmony with Spirit. They skip along, capture my curiosity in that profane and sacred are connected, both with a speck of God’s goodness for those willing to mine the mire. Today, ghosts…
