My relationship with the throbbing pulse that is LIFE... - with the sentience of her - is so often deeper and clearer in the pre-dawn pause each day seems to take. In those minutes she whispers to my parched heart, watering me with her presence until I’m brimming with juicy life. What makes this work is attention. My attention meeting hers, forging a fragile bridge between here and now and everywhere and every when. Listening to the Night by Tracie Nichols We meet. We touch. We trust. We expand into each other and into deeper versions of ourselves. “listening to the night…” she keeps whispering to me (she being Gaia, LIFE midwife) “listening to the night…” as if there’s more to the sentence more instruction to come. but no. just, “listening to the night…” is she listening? am I? somebeing else? . . ….and, so, I listen….. . …(rain) . ….(my breath) . . ……(stonesong from her bones) . . . and then… . .