Stand underneath a cottonwood tree in mid-summer,
or under a sycamore, to get the same view of the light,
as the breeze-blown leaves move and flutter
allowing some sun to come directly upon your face,
already having passed through the blue sky overhead.
Knowledge of self and of all-that-is comes to you
in that same way: sometimes clear and bright,
at other times briefly hidden, at all times present,
surrounding you with possibility for the remainder of the day.