weewilkie

By weewilkie

blissful morning geometry

The sun rose clear into a cold sky. The light catching embers of cloud to ignite the morning. A walk to the bus stop via the Harbourside and a contrail triangulates with the line of a building.

These angles. The trigonometry of my detour. The lives of that moment intersecting somewhere in the sky. My mind's eye finds the sweet spot in the air where they connect. The sun, the aeroplane and the architecture. All aglow in the blissful geometry of the dawn. Briefly, till the angles shift and suddenly all this is gone like the very magic that conjured it.

So I make play to triangulate the other things in my day. To connect them to their sweet spot. To the deep bliss in my every step. To the angles of my regard at the turn of my head. To the light, the people and the architecture.

Onwards!

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