in the void // sometimes there is rain after the rainbow

this morning i awoke from an uncanny, lucid stretch of dreaming. around 5:30am. on the new moon in gemini. i pattered out to the backyard and put my feet in the grass. stretched. greeted the skies, the atmos, the creatures. hello, rainbow. i smiled. what a treat. and then! a tiny pale yellow butterfly. oh my. how lovely. suddenly i am smitten with the earth’s delights surrounding me. i put my headphones on for a guided meditation. gemini season and uranus entering gemini has been testing my ability to ground myself. my head feels like a cloud itself these past few weeks. learning how to allow this without assuming i am going backwards on the journey. tis a spiral, jill. im not gonna lie, it took me like 6 different tries to finally land on a meditation that felt good. sometimes i prefer a woman’s voice, maybe an accent. i sink into the damp lounge chair, pillow supporting my head and lower back, slowly stretching out my legs, feet, toes. staring up at the whispy clouds. breathing. being. relaxing into the words im hearing. connecting mental dots in a flow-like state. things make sense faintly, i let go. a tinge of sadness appears, i allow. it releases as if into the air. and then, something unexpected. on this summer morning in the desert, i notice one big rain cloud now hovering above me. then i see, against the filtered morning light, scattered rain drops. i smile. put my palms out. consider going inside. no. i stay. i allow. i enjoy. i giggle softly with the Earth. thank you.