I write words caught from the ocean of light. Just when I think the ocean will run dry, a marvelous fish surfaces with words in its mouth just for me. Playfully the fish tosses them into my net. I scoop them up and an essay is written.
This morning the words “an ocean of light” were tossed into the net, and so begins this Monday morning essay. Yesterday I put it out to the universe that I was ready to begin work on a new book. I realize that I am clueless as to how to get it published. I am always clueless when it comes to such things. So I sit in my chair meditating and the phrase comes to mind. An ocean of light. I let myself free associate about such a beautiful phrase.
I am sitting here typing in my bath robe and slippers. The sun has not appeared yet and I hear the faint chirping of a bird. All this is contained in an ocean of light. Consciousness is an ocean of light. Inside the ocean is food, is sustenance. All I have to do is write down the “catch of the day.” Sometimes one splendid phrase is enough.
Inside the ocean of the All
I bob up and down with God.
Porpoises play and conceal the
depths and dangers hidden within
the arms of God.
He is an ocean of light
and we are mere messengers of
His watery whispers.
Go down, Moses, go down.
Yea, though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death
I swim in an ocean of light.