If I look with the eyes of my angel soul, all I can see is angels and Home. I am willing to be willing.
Trees outside the guest room, off the busy street that leads to the beach–I ask them. There is a gentle wave. They are old, twisted willow-type stantions that shield chattering sparrows. Seasons are seasons. No need to fuss.
When I turn my attention to the Divine, I recognize that She has been always been near me, smiling patiently as I twirl and swirl around distracted by the merry-go-round of human life.
Hello Dear One. I am so glad to be here and now with You. I relax in Your arms.