Tuesday, April 27, 2010


~What is contained within us, I wonder?

~Birth, life... that is what is contained. So, our endings are held in these our vessels of grantedness.

~In the original seed is the fallen shades of winter; and, in the blooms of light, there too, are the shadows of nightfall and demise.

~Casts of living are sacred and the mercies of God give us at our inceptive pools, life and death at the very same time and in the very same place. When we are conceived, the rose seems already to be snipped and placed in an earthen urn, to wither and drop its pedals in due time. As infants, the elder lay within us, too. The cradle and coffin, the east of sunrise and west of sunset occur at once, simultaneously, most directly, in the Now.

~In our box of humanness, we cannot witness this for the truth that it is; that the seas’ breakers have long since crashed upon the Shores and the tastiness of salt in the air has already since been savored and swallowed.

~But, for grace, we live. But for the mystical election of God, do we travel and still live as a People, standing in deserts of not our own devisings.

~How simply we can be snuffed as pieces of short enjoyment or embittered sorrows; and how great is our creation, our Creator, and journeys toward our individual changings, toward our given freedoms. To assume the sweep of night mists will be among us; to assume the white moon will past through her phases and wanes; to assume that we shall breathe as we rise, is in the direct, divine hands of happenstance and Hope.

~No, the fragility in which all move is likened to the delicacy of neonatal drifts in crystalized snow that bear reddened beats of sun’s rays. For, I am delicately poised in a wood, in a pasture, in a meadow, in a briny ocean pond, upon a great undulant hill; looking out and knowing that I, too, am a relic, a fossil, something already shed, already molted, yet surviving still in grace and gratefulness.

~And although passed as mistings of my own simplicity, I live; and today my eyes close in thanksgiving with my palms raised to all there is; and to all that occurred; and to all that ever shall be.

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