Perspective

Tonight, the word that keeps rising to the top of my consciousness is Perspective. Last night, sitting in the backyard, the stars seemed so bright even with all the light pollution of north Hobbs. The Perspective of timelessness reigned. Looking outward centuries into the past. The light from the nearest one leaving its boiling, atomic surface several years ago. The faintest pinpricks in the night sky, millenniums ago.
                                                                     An observed Perspective of awe.

Tonight, clouds moved in, tying Perspective to the immediacy of the back yard with its slight, cool breeze flittering the prayer flags, snapping a piece of metal somewhere in the distance back and forth. A siren sets the neighborhood dogs to a primeval howling that chills the marrow. Afterward, watching the dogs, more shadows than definite images, running here and there. Ages back, nature prepared them better than I for prowling the night. Endowed them with a different Perspective.

At one point, one of the smaller ones, who normally doesn't retrieve, proudly brings me a chew toy and places it in my hand, tail wagging, a slight glint of light catching her eyes and making her momentarily more visible.

Joy. Her perspective is joy at this simple act.

                                                                           My perspective humility,
                                                                                               with a touch of  awe.