Sitting on the Back porch steps

Reading "What is G-d?" --Karen Armstrong's book, left me off less concerned with any spiritual headway at first, though I wanted it. I wanted to be concerned. The ideation of worship doesn't cause offense in that I can't be mistaken for leaving my salvation at the foot of any church. Knowing we impugn the outward fact in our respective worlds, the object worthy of worship developed of its own momentum. The SUN is rife with adherents for this reason, so with circumspection I just assumed I should take it in therapeutically as if it would suffice only for obvious reasons, my dissipation. But why not immerse whenever, wherever into its fullness? Never identifying with it was never plain to me, just that it was our gravest resource and life-giver excused it from a life thriving in minutiae (namely mine), and beyond its healing. I'm managing from page to page in the book wanting to compliment the Ultimate Reality with a glance into the yard, or skyward, and then I get to an exegesis from a Sufi poem. Something with the SUN mentioned in it and I felt NOW, then, and if my thoughts were intervallic with a lesser attention as I get sometimes, this kind of formidable moment yields to a vastness, creating a story and always a pattern to get back to.