is a time of quiet joy, the sunny morning. When the glittery dew is on the mallow weeds, each leaf holds a jewel which is beautiful if not valuable. This is no time for hurry or for bustle. Thoughts are slow and deep and golden in the morning.

You have no idea what time it is—you’ve lost track of the measurement of minutes and hours—but you do know your being has been in relation. There is something sacred about this. The event of encountered personhood is an experience of time that no measuring device can fully decipher, because it’s the encounter of spirit.

the untouched glass of water on the coffee table filling with sunlight.