I trip over a bucket of water before stretching out on a bench. It´s almost midnight. Even with my jacket zipped and my arms folded around me I start shivering. But I can´t go back inside…not yet. Star-studded blackness is too eloquent to read over quickly, too rich with un-captured emotion. Perusal is not enough. I need a few more minutes, a couple more moments to even put one complete thought together from the letter written by points of starlight.
A wave of crashing Love pierces the Earth´s atmosphere and reaches the shores of my heart. I realize I can stop Love in its trajectory. I can refuse this space-defying, space-filling Love…it will not force its way into my soul. “But no,” I think as my vision is blurred by a tear, “I cannot pretend to shiver alone when the same Love that holds the stars in suspension is surrounding me.”
“When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of him? And the son of man, that thou visitest him?” Psalm 8:3, 4