The sun and prism again create an exquisite dance. Two pictures hang. One a morning sunrise cloaked in the hush of mountain clouds. In the other picture the morning sun lays a red carpet for its arrival. The sun and prism’s bold brush, not to be denied, unzips the swaddling wrap of black, gray, and white. Oh the black, gray, and white sunrise was there, yes, it was real. But the stroke of the sun and prism’s dance reminds that the past, even though captured in truth, is as impermanent as that one single sunrise. To see what was, and even what would be in the second picture, is to see the genius of this moment Now. To see the beauty that emerges in the potential of Now. The gift, awe, and mystery of Life. The whispered grace…what is the day’s gift of Now? To take my brush and be as bold as the prism and sun.