A Morning "Fable"

A Children's Story : but not really . . .
by Gwyneth McNeil

"Your sky is bright!"
"I know," she said,
"It's the only way I know how to make it."
"And your moon is very, very soft."
"Well, that's because it's new yet, and young. Like you."
"Will you always be here?" I asked, hoping, but not daring speak the hope
for fear that words spoken would dash it all.
"Oh yes," she said, "at least, as long as you are. You care for me. When I am cared for, I live.
And when I live, you will always have a place to grow."
And then she smiled. And the air twinkled. But only I saw it. For this was a very private twinkling, as all " first twinkling’s " are.
And I relaxed, heaving a sigh deep into her holding.
And I slept, as she told me of ages past and all the wonderful nows and possible futures.
And sleeping, I awoke.
"Good morning," she said.
"Oh, it is! Oh yes, it really is!"
And I jumped, and I ran, and I breathed, and I shouted, and I sang!
She breathed, too.
She rested then, and made ready the ground for another's awakening.
Auh-Om, and Hallelujah !
From Wellness Goods