June Sky Communion
from Out With Lanterns
This morning after coffee and the dog’s walk, I took a yoga mat to the deck for a stretch. My right side more limber than my left, my joints crunched. There was wincing. Knees to chest, hands to toes, I flipped to my back under bright June sky. Clouds beckoned, told ancient stories– a raven sheltering in the mane of a lion, a hula dancer then a bow and arrow, gone so fast. Nothing is permanent. Tonight as I try and fail to fall asleep, I think how no two clouds are alike, how fast the sky changed as I watched, how clouds have something to teach me.
