walking on the edge of the sky ocean this morning

[asakiyume]

It's calm, not a whitecap in sight, and there's sparkling manna everywhere, turning the grass to silver. The light is morning light, not dawn light anymore, but still long, and golden. Silver-golden. The long, silver-golden light of an inhaling, not the rose-golden light of evening, which is exhaling. Golden light has two sides? Morning and evening? Maybe that's it: the two sides of golden light are morning and evening. Or: golden light is a signpost, and one arrow points to morning, and the other to evening.

This golden morning light, with the leaves just so, and the road cool beneath my feet, is a place I inhabited first in dreams, but I come here often, now, and as I think about it, I'm glad we have three dimensions or more in which to give (and receive) directions, because some maps are hard to make, otherwise.

. . . And--an extra thought--when you inhale, like morning, your feet may come off the ground. Not that mine have, except in leaps, except in dreams, but they may. It is both permitted and possible.

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[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

I've dreamed about it, and some mornings, if I close my eyes, I'm wading in it.