Sez, your words capture the heart of what I feel most intensely in nature—that profound awe in the light’s ever-changing touch, the unique glow it gives to each moment. For me, this awareness of being woven into the universe often emerges when I’m outdoors, feeling the sun or wind on my skin, or standing beneath a sky studded with stars.
I sense this connection, too, in the simple act of creating a meal: flour, water, egg, a bit of fat—all transformed by heat into something nourishing, beautiful, alive. Your poem reminds me that even in the smallest, most mundane actions, we touch something timeless. Preparing food, watching the northern lights, or savoring a sunset—all these moments bring me closer to the Mystery you describe, that endless conversation between ourselves and the cosmos.
Sez, your words capture the heart of what I feel most intensely in nature—that profound awe in the light’s ever-changing touch, the unique glow it gives to each moment. For me, this awareness of being woven into the universe often emerges when I’m outdoors, feeling the sun or wind on my skin, or standing beneath a sky studded with stars.
I sense this connection, too, in the simple act of creating a meal: flour, water, egg, a bit of fat—all transformed by heat into something nourishing, beautiful, alive. Your poem reminds me that even in the smallest, most mundane actions, we touch something timeless. Preparing food, watching the northern lights, or savoring a sunset—all these moments bring me closer to the Mystery you describe, that endless conversation between ourselves and the cosmos.