where Laws of the Universe are in charge…

where the secrets of life give until it hurts…

A Breath Floats By flowed...

when synchronicity surpassed creativity…

and hope surpassed belief…

The story of a waiting moment in time at last unfolded by

the law of Universal attraction — the secrets of life settling

upon an aging seeker granted the deepest earthly insight. 

It is a facet in reality that is known even before we live within that reality.  Expected for a lifetime, then it comes...

sometimes invited.

or sometimes the spiritual answers come with unrelenting force. 

Excerpt taken from the spiritual walk of three wise women

A Breath Floats By

An Illusion for The Soul

Author Thayne Hudson

The Twilight

Sometimes a breath floats by me

An odor from Dreamland sent,

Which makes the ghost seem nigh me

Of a something that came and went,

Of a life lived somewhere, I know not

In what diviner sphere.....

A something too vague, could I name it,

For others to know:

As though I had lived it and dreamed it,

As though I had acted and schemed it

Long ago.....

       James Russell Lowell, 1819-1891

somewhere in chapter two… life is out of control

Lindsay realized her change of life hadn’t hit the fan as harshly as this transformation that swept them ever closer to Sam’s death.  She stripped to underwear and fluffy socks and crawled into bed at noon, hoping Sam’s hospital tray had reached him by now.

Weary enough to be less wary than ever in the last three decades, she tried to pray not to dream but only fell face downward into an engulfing sleep, cringing, just waiting….

A wide-eyed gray seal skidded through the doorway and onto the rug making her two lounging Newfoundlands raise their heads to grumble.  Even both her skunks lifted their tails.  They saw the seal!  But goodness, she was dreaming if that creature was in her bedroom.

She struggled to open her eyes but hypnotizing light suspended her.  She was surrounded with heaven thrilling tones, and to make life more dismal, outlandish women wandered through her new cottage.  One of the two in long dresses was singing… the one with turquoise eyes.  A skinny older woman wore shorts.  Another tiny one with sleeves torn off her flannel shirt was pulsing a beat on a flat leather drum.

Cranky Maimee slammed in the front door and thumped through with the cottage key on a neck chain.  The scrawly cat on her shoulder clung to her floppy gray hair as the old woman slammed her exit so hard Lindsay jerked awake. 

Goodness!

Certain the front door actually slammed, she bolted off the bed landing in front of the French doors to the living room where she faced only one of the four cottage entrances. 

Nothing, except that unusual cluster of light bubbles she never could swish away.

She crouched low and hurried to the window, screening her near nudity with the white lace sheers as she ducked behind the towering wardrobe.  But no one was in the yard. 

She whimpered, cringing from the icy cold in her spine, waiting. 

Had they even gone?

Then a breath... almost a breath floated by.

It was happening all over again.  After thirty years.

Goodness, she knew the problem.  She didn’t actually pray.  She went back to her room, understanding fully the expression of ‘shaking in one’s own skin.’