Soul Seeing

Sunday's little sacraments

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Sunday. Vickie and I stay in bed till 10 a.m. She lies on her back just like she did before she fell asleep, arms crossed over her chest, head straight, eyes fixed, like a sarcophagus of Cleopatra. What she sees, I do not know.

I put my cheek against hers, as warm as a baby's. I turn her face to mine and smile. "Good morning, Sunshine." Her eyes come to life, her face glows. I kiss her cheek over and over and snuggle up close like a family dog that just jumped into bed. We just lay there. It is our morning prayer.

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In This Issue

December 2-15, 2016

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