Morning Star

In my meditation I am walking in a lush green forest, the path I am on is serpentine, winding amongst trees; a myraid of wildflowers are growing everywhere I look, suddenly, I jump at the slither of a snake across my path; in the distance I can hear the sound of water falling over rocks. I come to a place where a cascade of water flows, where the lilt of the rising and falling is the voice of nature; and a nebula of hazy swirling emotions flood my mind, with tears, I watch the morning star rise in the east; before sunrise, a bright phosporous glow shining with renewal.