Your love, expressed as the sensation of a hot shower on my scalp and down my back.
The moment of prayerful connection this morning in that shower. Me, completely and only me, not even clothed, in communication with You. Saying nothing but “I am here,” and Your response, through the water, of “I am here.”
The sweetness of sugared milk to the end of a bowl of Cheerios. Again: that sweetness an expression of Your love.
And, from the Bhagavad Gita, Your expression in the taste of water. Perhaps that should be Taste of Water, as it becomes a proper noun.
Deep sleep. I slept restlessly the first part of the night and then deeply into morning. A pleasure alone among pleasures in that it can’t be enjoyed if there is conscious awareness of it. It can only be enjoyed in retrospect.