Earth, Water, Music

A hot day. The sun was high, the shadows very small. The blooms parched but for the shade of the wall. The wind picked up little demons of dust, little devils dancing around the sun baked paths. Prancing like children as they play with the dead leaves. The earth is parched; it should have rained a month ago. I put water out for the birds; it’s a joy to watch them dip into their first bath for weeks. It should have rained a month ago. The ground is parched begging for a drop to moisten its lips.

The wind has picked up, Lucifer’s children grow stronger. Play games. I look as a door slams somewhere, the birds startled. The water splashes, soaked up in a second. Come back; sing for it’s only the wind. I shall wait. It should rain now, soon. The once greens are a murdered color of hay. Lucifer’s children are hiding eerie calm. A droplet of salty water drops off the brow. Surprised I look to the sky. Nothing. Sigh. The birds are back, the lure of cool water over powers the fear. Solitude breaks … chirping. It must rain soon.

The shadows are long now; the birds have had their fill, for now. Not a parched leaf moves the sun is gone; the Earth will have some respite. The birds go to their nests I must go too. Yes I must go too, but where? These four lavish walls of silence don’t call to me. I step out as the sun hides in the horizon. It’s cooler now but no rain. I walk along the path following the cool breeze. A faint splashing beckons me. I hope the birds are happy. That splashing its closer, the lake! Of course the lake, it’s always been there, is it calling? The earth is parched and there is water just a breath away? Strange….

Why hasn’t it rained? Is that even a question any more? There is water to last many lifetimes, I laugh. Mostly at myself, did I just spend the day begging for what lay for the taking? Louder still my laugh resonates in the hills in the earth. Water! I roll the sleeves and start digging for there is ground to be covered, for we seldom get and when we do we must work for it to be where it needs to.

The nest can wait, for many birds will get respite today, the parched earth will drink. Elbow deep in mud could one e happier? Wipe the brow and toil on for the sweat will seed many a fruit as it snowballs to change. As I remember the lines once read lifetimes ago “give me the courage to change the things I can, the fortitude to accept the things I cannot and the wisdom to know the difference” Change! We are all weary, skeptical, critical, scared, of change, but all matter living or otherwise, changes and transitions. The real challenge is to accept, understand, evaluate, chose, evolve and maintain positive momentum as a parallel constant. KEEP WALKING and all will follow.

Today there is water, and while it flows there will be music and a new tomorrow.

Musings of a Daughter

A loner that’s me! This is not true only for those very few who know me for my eccentricities, and know me for who I am. The rest are but strangers companions if at most for a while. I have often journeyed into my past so as to understand my future, make sense of my present. Our present mirrors the past so the wise men say. So if the past maketh my present what pray makes my future? For is it not what I am today that will define who I am tomorrow? This fork in the road will be me? … who will it be? Will I know where it may lead and then step or will I let you hold my hand to lead me to the right leave the wrong behind?

It was simpler then when the father did guide, the lessons of life taught in those many stories in those few words… they settled my soul then, made the choices easy. Can they not be easy now? Those simple rules of integrity and compassion, of trust and fidelity, of belief and self, of those many things that now infuse doubt. The steps were as easy then as they are heavy now. Lighten my step for I am tired of the heavy load, yet when I look to the light it is blinding. The darkness is devoid of companions. Can you not hold my hand so I can draw from your strength? Did I ask the question aloud? Is it the sound of the weak? Can I not see the demons in the darkness? For weakness has no taker in the darkness of today. Why does my conscience speak to me so? Why does it question my every step? I see the mass of humanity pass me by with not a care on their brow? So why is it that I question and evaluate every step? What in my past makes me question the present? Did I voice that aloud too? Is there an ear in the darkness?

I hear that voice if I hold my breath. It is a voice I have known all my life. It is not me, yet it is who I am. I close my eyes and the light is softer. “You are who you were destined to be, for this one life has many lifetimes to live. I spent a lifetime with you my child when I held your hand and led you to the light and guided your every step. You chose well, with strength and perseverance. It is this past that molded you. I spent another life time correcting the course of the wayward ship, yet letting your sails fill themselves to chase the horizon, god speed. You travelled well not swaying much from your course till you are but a dot on the horizon. I am at a distance now and the storm clouds approach as Poseidon prepares to test your spirit. I spent a lifetime holding my breath and the spirit prevailed, the clouds shatter and the old man of the sea sleeps again till another time. The Olympians watch and while some will be friendly be weary of most. I have spent a lifetime forging the hull and it holds its own I see.” You questions mark your path; the answers set you apart from the crowd. It is the past that made your present. Just as this present will make your future.

"Stand out! for the crowd has no face, the sea has waves on every beach. Hold that head high it matters not what waves it makes. The weather is for ever changing and the rocks have already weathered all there is to see. Have no fear for there are and will be many a skeletons, many a fossil, amber and roses": Yes the cobwebs are fading, they are gone. Let the sunshine in. Blue skies at last cheering me on.

I let my breath go. The breath I spent a life time holding, the voice is dear, it stands by me as the light clears out to vision. The hull is strong and will last many lifetimes of stormy seas. The old man of the sea will test the sailor many a time, and each time the voice will be beside me, guiding me to the light. Not all seas are friendly and not all are hostile yet we approach each with caution, for the currents hide just below the calm. It is the past which holds the judgment steady. For I know now that my future is what I make it to be.

To my father, a great man I write this for it is he who has held my hand, but also it is he who let go when I wanted to spread my wings, it is but cause of him the hull is strong and the ship well captained. I cannot but only imagine what it would have been to stand and let me find the edge, a new cliff and a new sea every day. To know the height of the fall and the depth of the deep blue seas and yet Oh the courage you let go and hold on! I have reflected on the past many a time, sometimes with you too. I have felt that your courage, this life source that flows in my veins an apple they say never falls far from the tree. I have those hints of decisiveness and God help me stubbornness! They have stood me in good faith. Yet there is this thing which I credit to you which no one has, yes I have seen poor excuses for childhood many a time, I can only smile when I see how mine was rich. I know now as I have for a while without doubt that I have had a better past than I deserved and that it has made me a better person that I had the potential to be.

TO A STRANGER IN MY LIFE

I do not know who you are, where you came from and why at that. I do know that it is not to be should not, could not be. Where are you from? Not my world I know, so where pray tell and what made you find me. The times are such that we met on the high road, it was casual crossing of strangers what made you my acquaintance?

I have observed and watched I read what I see and what is but just beyond my grasp, I don’t get you as yet my friend. You must forgive me for being weary of strangers who carry sugar, it’s an old sin I have come to rely on. There are many sins for one to stray clear of anything that is repeated and not demonstrated till it’s demonstrated. Then there is the sugar, oh the sugar the life source of romantics and did I tell you I am a realist, another sin.
There are other things that trouble the peace and unsettle the soul, the questions oh! the many questions, many questions? Or is it just that one question? Yes it is that one question which may hold all the answers, for I am not above believing in the karmic connections. Cynical is it? No not really, realist remember? So tell me my friend, if you can truly be addressed so, what is this connection that draws you to me? The truth is sensed not spoken the fine lines keep it differentiated from propaganda. Is it not? Those answers my friend have the faint wisps of propaganda. I sense it with every soft fragrant breeze.

Wait let me clear my head! There is more! You read my friend, the senses do they tell you, I guess they do for oh my surprised heart you do get it right, at times or do they warn you? Do they really not warn you, back off and pause a bit will you? I would not want you hurt my friend as I too care for all humanity it’s the human beings I am weary of? Not so of you, strange phenomenon this for I care too, but is it not why I keep it away, safe far from all? If what I hear is true then you need to be cautious my friend as some roads lead nowhere, this is one such road. Then again, look you made me second guess me, do I need to really pin point it? Do I must I classify and box, must I have everything in clear shape? The clouds are a shape, or are they?
Let me clear my head for thought has always been prelude to my actions. Think! Think! Question and observe the clouds will part and I will have my truth. Till then I have these theories, yes based on observed evaluated experience but a theory as yet. As I see it from safely behind my cynical eye wear, it’s a pre mid youth fling? Or is it a reinforcement of it? It has faint hallmarks of dominance. This intrigues me so? While I ponder this study what draws me to you? Yes you are smooth my friend but time is a great leveler, it shall but have to part the smog. While I clear my head you may open your heart to let a peak into your soul, not me I hold mine close.

So there my friend while you fly I ask, and till I know all I seek you shall fly alone. For my flight is my own not shared not open, its high and free and only me. Bring on the sugar! It makes for an occasional dessert.. So there my friend fly safe till I know all that I seek till then let sleeping tigers lie.