Everything is waiting for you . . .
Poet David Whyte’s words seemed to just emerge from behind this sky as I watched it, unrolled like a bolt of soft silk on the cutting table; its possibility growing with each thumping turn of the cardboard spool, soft piles of abundance massing. Where will we take it; where will it take us, all that is waiting.
This sky is unfolding gently over people I love and people I will never meet, one with a new idea, one with an old despair. Under it a black cat slips out to sit like a silhouette on the edge of the day. Under it the possibilities of the morning are eased from the hurts of the night before.
We are disciples standing with arms outstretched for what we long to receive and what we long to offer.
It Lent and before us the sky carries the crux of indigo and Easter.
“Everything is waiting for you”.