I’m opened like the morning sky.  I walk out on the deck and fog and sun are in a dance of light.  I feel the same. I have nothing that “needs” doing today, no place I have to be.  My speech for the memorial is written. I’ll offer it in a week but this day nests and rests.

My brother is with me, ancestry.  I’m a dance. I’ve never felt like this before.  Well, of course, I’ve never felt like this before.  Moments don’t repeat. Each moment unfolds, evolves new ways to receive.  

I’m lovingly informed I’m held in tenderness,  I feel held, newly born, held in the support of a nest I’ve built over years, perhaps lifetimes.  I am a dance, a river, an ocean, a pond. I am vibration rising up and down, in and out, held in love and trust.

Years ago I wrote a poem, Origami in Reverse.  I do that now. Gently, tenderly, open what folds to birth.