Opening

Nine stars hover in an awkward collection of ambition, strife, anger, ebullience and wanting.

Tentative questions reach and reach again for deeper understanding. How lovely do we shine with conscientious humility!

Sparks of happy energy burn into tender flesh…unleashing cords of suffering that we’d coiled up neatly for safe keeping in small, dry spaces.

We declare raw vision and audition for the role of Kind and Gentle Healer, even while hatching daring schemes embellished with crystal bracelets and musty cotton.

Nine stars quivering at each unsteady touch. We brush dark canvas with a rainbow of chalky hues, smudging the red into the green, the indigo into the amber. Our cosmic graffiti.

Artistry arises only in sleep.

The end time knocks gently at the exit, splintering our magical circle without mercy.

Our questions echo across the hallways and out into the street. Our warm fingertips cool to meet the night. Our insights lose all memory of being born. Our colorful strokes wash away into the Sea of Hope.

Nine stars alone among the countless billions but for the splendor of purity piercing down from without and flooding out from within.

Empty space for love…the lesson proves far too simple for learning.