Skip to main content

Another Time

In a world, not so far away, sunlight yawned over the drenched hilltop. Its light, magnified by the wetness of grass and wild brush. The trees gently swaying, a morning stretch to mark the start of the day.

Though just a block from home, this hill is somehow otherworldly. It harkens my mind to fairytales and dreams. While my body continues to briskly pass by, my soul lingers, captured by the light, thrown from the floor of the hillside. Everything sparkles, illuminated by dawn.

In some other time I would lay out a blanket. I would lie myself on the hill and become another being capturing and casting the light from its surface. I would absorb the warmth of the rays, feel the gentle brush of breeze. But instead of awakening as the hill does, I would sleep. I would close my eyes and float away.

Away to you, to rest, to life and abundance. Though the air carries no word, I would hear you speaking. Words without sound, life without expense. Simply being. No exerting. Your presence sufficient to sustain and bring value and create wholeness.

t.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Something you're working on

A dream is growing. Seats filled. Anxious. Broken. Worried. Depressed. Grieving. Miscarried. Sorrowful. Hopeless. Lost. Dead. A haunting melody consumes the air. It is pain. Misguidance. Confusion. An anthem of strength overpowers the weight of the melody. Hard. Heavy. Worthy. Sure. A stage with a story. A man giving tools. A woman peddling good news. Seats. Leaning in. Wonder filled. Caught in curiosity. What is that stirring, that lifting, that . . . Hope? A dream is growing. Looking for the T[ea]

Compliments

What is a compliment really?  It is the external acknowledgment of something positive. It is praise.  What does it mean?  Is it meant to encourage? Express desire? Manipulate?  We interpret compliments through our own lens. So what happens when the lens is broken? Clouded? Compliments become distorted. They blur. And this distortion makes them untrustworthy. And what do we do when something is untrustworthy? We dismiss it. We run from it. We counter it. We fight it.  How do we give compliments when our receiving lens is broken? What do they mean? Are they self serving? Can they be trusted?  Is my lens clear? Is my vision distorted? I know it is. What do I use to repair a lens? What is the barometer by which I calibrate my self worth? Scripture? But scripture interpreted by who? The hands that fed me scripture were the very hands that broke the lens. Maybe the answer is not to repair the broken lens. Maybe the answer is to replace the lens entirely.  V

Compliments

Their words were disingenuous. Dripping with desire. Oozing with intention. They made her cringe and retreat in the opposite direction of their manipulations. She felt it in the tension in her back, in the slight urge to vomit, in the urge to hide. She wouldn't smile in return, or feign pleasure. What did they want? What did their slippery smiles try to elicit? She wouldn't give it to them, and so they called her a bitch. -j