Sometimes I’m tucked inside and creased, like delicate and fragile origami, waiting for someone to unfold me with great curiosity, to reveal the origins of my fingerprints and implications.
Other times, I’m tensile, possibility like an inflating balloon, while someone blows me into swirly bubbles that lilt along the breeze… up, up, up and away.
From infinite microcosms to infinite macrocosms, and the eons of light-years between, I feel insignificant and almighty at once. When the universe – the one song – dilates, new galaxies and nebulas and amoebae and subatomic particles collaborate and sing me a lullaby of marvellous fortune.
Hibernation. Constriction. Prayer.
Expansion. Exuberance. Love.
But I would never recognize minutiae or immensity without being in relationship.
For tonight, this cool August eve in a wooded nook, kindred spirits wrapped around me like a handknit shawl, I am awash in appreciation for people whose orbits link with mine – however briefly – and plunge me into watery, baptismal depths:
The Brazilian surfer who blesses every meal,
the harpsichordist with a penchant for 17th century music,
the fun-loving Commodore with his antique car collection,
the sturdy sailor who crafted his schooner by hand,
the drumming shaman who sees fairies in stone,
the illustrator who lets me dig in her garden,
the pony-tailed jeweler with the three-thousand dollar toothbrush,
the laid back captain who loves to dance to the blues,
the retired pilot who follows rivers and tides,
the vivacious blonde with her unwavering smile,
the combat artist with his precious newborn,
the unlikely dandy in a teensy, windswept village,
the politico with a theory to bring order in a confusing world,
the pixie-like soprano with her hypnotizing voice,
the motorcyclist who recommends a secret kayaking route,
and the lovely, Shanghai-raised ingenue who wants to change the world.
There are as many twinklers here, on this magical stretch of coast, as appear up in the heavens on a dark, new moon night and each has sprinkled a little stardust on me…
Read another “elemental” musing o’ mine: The Periodic Table Of My Dreams
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Thank you. xo
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