finding Narcissus by a quiet stream…

Manna Meditations, Day 33

The Stream snatches a slice out of the sky and pins it down in a furrow of earth, so that all the trees lean over to look, seeing the sight of themselves for the very first time:

They stand astounded, caught in this position for a hundred years, perhaps … Just long enough for their lean forms to lock in the shape of supplication, or prayer.

The Stream laughs all day long at their vanity. But the she laughs, too, at the gift of their beauty, which bends always toward her, backlit by blue.

In the face of our beloved, we seek our own reflection. ❤