From the depth of my truth, I welcome you to the peace of this moment, the taffy-stretching seconds marking this in-breath and this one and this.

From the depth of my truth, I invite you to hold my hand, all of my hands, as we glide through the diamond dripping skies, skating on a cascade of light that glitters through the farthest reaches of eternity.

From the depth of my truth, I ask you to join me on this pilgrimage from nowhere to nowhere, collecting shiny rocks and broken shells at every stop, skinning our knees and nicking our toes and covering all our cuts with yellow bandaids.

From the depth of my truth, I summon you to look deeply into my eyes, as deeply as I gaze into yours, and see your own divinity reflected back at you.

From the depth of my truth, I invoke for you a picture of the world’s perfection—flawed, skewed, dazed as we all are, yet shining with infinite promise.

From the depth of my truth, I weave for you a story spun from spider silk, gossamer thin, translucent, barely a wisp, containing all the knowing you will ever need to be free.

From the depth of my truth, I beseech you to close your eyes and open your heart and look inside, past the soft bruised places, past the walls and thorns, past the impenetrable darkness, to the depth of your own truth—and tell me, oh please tell me, what you see there.

For I see forever and now, every leaf and blade of grass, oceans and puddles, flakes of snow and grains of sand, birth and death, notes of music and thunder claps, traffic lights and fence posts, rage and ecstasy, tears and bath water, dandelion fluff and raindrops, me and you and all of us, from the depth of my truth, I see this all and more, what is here and what is gone and what is yet to come, what has always been here and what will always be here even when I am no longer here to see.