Whispering, the fox urged me to open my eyes. There outside your window the suns sphere is re-birthing into the horizon. Open your eyes. Open your vision to this world. Breath. A deep orange infused my bed room. I jumped out of bed half believing I would be swimming in liquid light. Even more spectacular I seemed to be breathing in radiance. I paused to check if I was still dreaming, was this some world where the fox and two leggeds talk like old friends meeting for a morning coffee? No, this is earth where my body lies still so my soul may travel to fields of play such as I came from. I walk outside now, still breathing in and out a radiance of sensations as if I have never lived here before. Variations of orange into yellow take place among a blue where drifting cloudy whites unveil above me. How fantastic this world is. How can it be I feel this in such a new way?
I paused to remember were I just traveled from. I was with a vibrant orange fox in a field of play, liquid in movement. We swam and did not generate breath that is so vibrant here, alive upon the horizon. We swam into a painting to have coffee in a sunny France beside a rebuilt Notre-Dame, pouring out stain glass light into the square. We were a people of the Rose. We brought medicines to our clan beside a river. Before the shape shifting of fox back to her ancient form, she whispered me awake to my body in bed. We took a single breath here together and I understood it's medicine to her people beside the river. I wonder now, has she ever lived here in this fantastic world alive with breath and color? Who are these people of the Rose?
Photo: Linda Fox
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