Thoroughly Alive

We must hunger after the beautiful and the good...


No doubt

Strong-shouldered mountains hulking on the skyline. A sling-down storm from space in a billow, a curtain of cornflower blue.

A lasso of mist round the wizened, white peaks.

And dark all aspin in each atom of air.


Light in a leap from beyond the mountains. Gold in a gallop over the hills.  Mist all adazzle by flame-pierced light, its weave, so fragile.

Pearl and opal, sapphire and ebony, slash the sky like a painter's brush. A frenzied wind laughs, laughs.

And I am here, eyes open. Imagine.

No doubt here.

Heaven, my friends, is real.