IMG_1793 (2).JPG

There is a unique quality to the light, a dusky tinted glow that bathes in mist the eyes and heart as an elixir of cool liquid fire. Just the right amount of sun baked orange, a shake of tye dye rose, a dusting of moon powder gray and slithered shed skin silver edges on the smoothed spikes of tongue like waves. It can happen as lovers surya and chandra recede or rise - when night and day come to meet, one drenched and dancing with the other. Or when the eyes close and the inner vision awakens- climbing the portals from matter to movement that’s loosened from the heat above. Nothing is needed to compliment this unstruck bliss known as the magic hour. There is a stillness, a slowness, a fullness- where we can only baske and reflect in the wonder of moment to moment timeless depth. The mango ripe crescent, in a seated hover above rippled silk spread ready for the intimate session of soul to soul wonder. Infinite and fleeting - ever available and occasionally honoured - your sacred notes dissolve any contraction and penetrate the hardest heart with a broad arrow of exhale. Refreshed in your warmth, the open invitation to be freely nurtured in your divine nature is welcomed by every, any , being who both rests and awakes. On the periphery of form and given just enough outline to anchor the mind as if seen through skin thin satin held up by vibration itself- the shining one, the compassionate one, embrace - one within the other, the other within the one. Drink in this essence of the heart, oh ishta devata- an anchor in limitless potential of all that has ever been. Born of love and nudged from the earth’s pulse, your sacred waves land on the shores of my awareness as if I was lost at sea at any time other than now.