Inbetween Space, in Honor of my Father

I wrote about an experience I had following the death of my father; an old picture frame holds that aging poem. Today is the anniversary of his passing. It honor of him, I share…

March 2, 2004

I had an amazing dream early this morning. I’ll tell you about it sometime. It had to do with two sides. I woke up to an incredible soft night rain. Then this happened…

Inbetween Space

The space that is in-between the rain at my window and the essence of my father: I stand here.

At first it was only a slight slice of grace. I stood, watching, as the breath of timelessness unfurled beyond the external wall into the All That is Now.

I enter in. I am the fresh night rain soaking the desert floor. Or am I instead the once dry land that holds forgotten seeds, waiting for this rain?

I mingle in the gnowings of my father, one who is not forgotten, only unvisible on the other side of the wall.

Oh sweet and everlasting moment! Once an eternity of unfoldings were before me and yet, as I walk thru the mist of whisperings, I enter the inbetween space with a new understanding: That Which Is has existed for always; There are no locks on the door.