Beyond the babel, my bliss, beauty, sacredness, soul cradled in calm.
Where is your sacred place, that place you can escape to far away from the madding crowd? Mine is my backyard, with my partner, cats, trees, mountains in the distance, the hummingbirds, and blessed quiet. We each need a sacred place of our own, because hardly anything is sacred in this world anymore. It can be a pretty crazy place!
And yeah, we have the right to it. Claiming yourself and your life is the first step to helping the world!
Chisel not my name onto elegant stone, so you that I love might become slave to a time and place that no longer holds my soul, to which you could become tied, lost in sorrow and life’s limitations.
Rather, joyfully cast my dust to the wind, so I may dance on the breeze, and one day as the leaves rustle gently overhead, you will feel me there, riding a ray of sunshine kissing your face, and I’ll whisper in your ear, “Remember to live free.”
Happy
True, real, enduring, happiness is being at peace with who we are.
Mysterious glim, fleeting light of forest nights. Magic extinguished.
A little magic for your Monday. Enjoy it while you can, as sadly the entrancing little insect that conjures childlike wonder is also on the endangered list. Our insects are disappearing at an epidemic rate.
Shrugging it off is not an option. Insects are at the bottom of the food chain. As they disappear, it affects every living creature that depends on insects for food, not to mention other repercussions related to the balance of nature. And on it goes. We may feel like it is mildly affecting us now, but later, perhaps not. The Monarch butterfly here, the firefly there,… where will it end? We humans like to think we are immune from extinction, but, are we?
If you’re wondering about the science behind fireflies, I found Scientific American’s How and why do fireflies light up? a very interesting read. When I was a kid, I thought fireflies were pure magic.
Your life is precious, so spend your moments wisely. Tick-tock, oops, they’re gone!
“Time is the school in which we learn, Time is the fire in which we burn” are the profound last lines of the poem, Calmly We Walk through This April’s Day, by Delmore Schwartz. It’s a beautiful philosophical ponderation on the passage of time, with a particularly great wrap-up last stanza.
The seconds, minutes, hours tick away relentlessly. Our lives are busy, and inundated with many distractions and responsibilities. Lately I’m looking at my age and the years that have passed, and thinking, “Wow! It’s going faster than I ever could have imagined when I was 18.”
Realistically, we don’t have time to sit around and ponder endlessly about the value of time and our lives. But, it’s useful to carve out a little time (from time to time) for such introspection. Because your life IS precious, and the clock IS ticking. Ask yourself in this moment, are you spending it the way you would really like to? In reply to that, I will close with my poem Tick-tock Madman:
Tick-tock Madman
That round evil man with his shallow pretty face leers from my wall. Cruelly and incessantly, he chips away at my life with his sharp little pick-axe.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
My days mete out in an endless dribble of tasks and responsibilities, and he watches me. Be on time, get it right! Get up again, do it again. and again, and again, and again.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
I thought he was my friend that insidious little man, Mom said he was! Just dress for success, always be on time, and your life will be right.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
Then one day I woke up and my life felt all wrong. Where are my dreams you cunning little man? You stole them while I toiled to your
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
Oh poacher of my hours! Is there time for me? Still hope for me? The Me you took while I played by the rules, always obeying time.
And that smug little man with his false pretty face just stares coldly at me from his unfeeling wall. Silent he is, but for the relentless
Susan L Hart / Author 