Last night I was shooting hoops.
It got colder, and darker, and a little more beautiful out,
and at some point,
reaching high up to the half moon before releasing the ball toward the goal,
it became more than basketball.

We pay bills, and we go to church or choir or meditate.
There is flow between the mundane and the spiritual,
back and forth, back and forth.
Over time, it becomes seamless.
The mundane and the spiritual are one and the same.