soul glitter

I've been working on a painting for a while now. 

This seems to be my gold period. Meaning I bought some gold paint and now I have it I want to use it. 

Of course I have over done it and painted over it several times. Who knows if I will even keep this painting when I am finished working on it, but it has given me hours of meditation during the process.

I sit starring at it with the intention of coming up with better ideas and choices, but then my mind wanders off into that great grey mist as it is wont to do.

I envision a soul leaving the body, evaporating into that great mystery I do not understand.

And then I see tiny flakes of that glittering soul gently settle onto and into everything.

And we are reborn, minuscule pieces of soul become part of flowers and trees and carrots and people and every breath taken. It glitters in the wind and sparkles in the snow. It is the twinkle of an eye, and the reflection in ice.

All the mythis are true to some extent. Each one hindered only by the mind of the imaginer.