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Something sweet...

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Outside of time, he would have been my ideal. The eleven year old to my eleven year old. 


Perhaps, beyond death and in the ever falling and lifting of the snowflakes of reality that cycle through earth's time, our spirits will align and become those that meet under the northern lights of Heaven.


Time is a cruel illusion. It belies the reality beyond the veil. I have seen the platinum hair and the crystal blue eyes. I have seen the dream made flesh. I know such things can be . . . it is only a calculus of vibrations and courage that can make two souls meant to be one find and complete each other.


May we all find and catch the snowflakes made for us. The snowflakes that fall over the forest at Christmas, under the phosphorescent sky over the eternal white.


Merry Christmas. May the gift of love come to us all through all the realms of time and space.

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