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Into The Mystic (Astrology)Astrology(Brian Michael Tracy) If I could pour myself into a cradle, waiting or squeeze like cheese through the eye of a needle I would lie down, fall upward in half integers of time rest my head on a cloud and watch the stars live their lives. Watch them appear and disappear, arrange and re-arrange with the seasons, asymmetrical, misaligned; and connect them as dots (look – over there a lion – and over there a hunter with two dogs!) searching always for the face of God. I would close my eyes and listen to their soft cries cascade over me like notes from a harp as they turned themselves into white dwarfs the size of sugar cubes. Put them in my tea and watch them dissolve spilling over the edge of my cup past the ends of my table, spreading like wind, like the sound of wind across yards and fields, forests and oceans never falling simply bending, as light does, like prayer when it reaches the horizon seeking the shortest path home. |