A black cat gazes from a night garden toward a copper lunar eclipse rising over dark mountains

DharmaGurl

We tend the shadows.
We follow the moonbeams.
We rest in the sunbeams.

Sanctuary is not a place.
It is a practice. A remembering. A return.

Something is growing here.
Rooted in grief. Watered by love.
Reaching toward light.

Come back when you need a moonbeam.