Space of Imagination

"I often wonder if my imagination is one of God's choicest gifts bestowed upon me 

to deliberately break me free from the frequent doldrums of my humanity."

Craig D. Lounsbrough 

Winter is wearing thin upon my creativity.  Maybe it is not so much the season of winter, nor the lovely falling snow, but the endless dreary days.  As I wait for my coffee to finish perking, I look out the window longing to see the sun shining.

There is something about the warmth of the sun that reminds me of being a young child with rounded face held in loving hands.  The simple warmth  spreads through my body releasing fear or stress and relaxing all my body parts.  I can only imagine the sunbeams triggering the same for streams, trees, and rocks strewn across pathways.

I return to my cave where I hibernate most of the winter.  There in my office waits music to suspend me in the realms of silence.  Books of the spiritual persuasion are waiting to be opened once again.  I light my candle, offer thanks for all that I have and enter my sacred space of imagination.