Through the Veil: By Joyce Sweinberg
Misty mystical morn
born of last evening’s tempest,
clothed in Maya’s veil.
Children of the cloudbursts return to the source,
dancing reflections of Infinity
rising to the call of the Beloved.
Lingering droplets, moist and luminescent
reflections of Infinity
playing in the filtered light of the sun.
Laden with the fullness of nothingness,
quiet clouds of misty air dancing, glistening, listening
to the music of the morning.
Hark! the birds are calling,
declaring the perfection of All That Is Brahman.
Let me not care for reason!
Photographs courtesy of Joyce Sweinberg