Once upon a time
A winged Being observed a field of flowers where a young Woman lay. From morning until night and night until morning, with days gently gliding by, her presence remained one with the floral landscape.
Her hair was the only way to tell that she was there amongst the flowers. Strands were often sighted first as they moved slightly with the breeze. They were soon dancing with the grasses and floating amongst the perfumed petals above her bed. Her body, though, was mostly motionless; for she had perfected a beautiful rhythm of stillness that Others envied.
But every so often an intermission within the stillness would take place. In this unpredicted moment of time, when the rest of the world moved, so did she.
One day a young Man, wide in trouser legs and stiff in form, moved through her glade. He happened upon her on one of the rare days in which she joined the petals to rise up and greet the morning’s sun.
According to the winged Being, the short and so very sweet encounter witnessed was much like eating a cupcake. But what the winged Being didn’t experience firsthand was the center itself. This was a privilege reserved only for the young Woman and young Man: one that was mindfully had.
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