Facing the South East.
Today I enjoyed the solitude. I sat outside in the gazebo, the afternoon sun partially shaded. The outdoor sounds resound in my ears. The trees and grasses sway ever so, ever so gentle in the wind, their soft voices, leaves rustling quietly, speaking to me. The birds sing in perfect time and the occasional cicada in harmony sets a mood.
Somewhere near by a neighbor is barbequing something that smells pretty good and another off in the distance mows his yard though it is to far off to catch the pleasing aroma of the freshly cut grass.
The wind blows; she is gentle from the east. It’s a fresh air that gently caresses my skin. It takes what scent there is of me off to the west, toward the forthcoming setting sun. In the west the same sun likely shines upon my daughter, my baby girl. She is gone for a time following the setting sun in western sky. But it’s the start of something new – my new part of life – my solitude – though I am not alone, my children have now grown.
Baby girl is away with her father, my ex-husband, my friend. They are vacationing and I imagine are now in the
I told him it is likely the last opportunity he will have for such an event. She’ll soon not have time for this kind of freedom, as she leaves the child behind and experiences more of her womanhood. It’s a difficult time for her; I remember it all too well – looking back – when I chased the setting sun to western sky – a time when one leaves the child and enters the firsts of adulthood. (Still the child lives on inside). Her favorite color is red. She is my redbird.
I wonder will this eastern wind take some essence of me to the
My son is off with his recreation, a paintball warrior. He is first born. He is the first little man, my baby boy. I reminded him today not to let the sun set on his wrath; I don’t think he understands. He and his girlfriend have had some disharmony. One day they’ll understand such circumstances aren’t worth the energy they consume. Maybe the gentleness in this soft comforting breeze will remind them of the love. It could if they’d let it; but I remember all too well – looking back – when I participated in such wars and war paths of disharmony.
It is what the Bible says; don’t let the sun go down on your wrath. If one could only comprehend such wisdom in the young adult years. 12 moons come and go in no time at all. The seasons, like this time of green are perpetual in motion and what opportunities we miss in living don’t always come around again.
I’ve recently lost a good friend of mine. Creator called her back to the stars. We were best friends at one time. We laughed and shared such good times in those years when we first experienced young adulthood. Ah but as is life we became seconds to the love of men. And through life, relationships, distance and time we grew apart. As the trees that blow gentle in the wind, its branches grow apart in time. Though still joined at the trunk they reach out to the sky, the same sky, in different directions.
Having left the tree, chameleon darts across the fence, still in green camouflage from his time in the tree. He’s not so hidden on the tan colored fence but he will change his color if he stays there. On his way to where he is going he climbed down from a branch and crossed the tree trunk planted firmly in the earth mother. He paused for a moment on his way to wherever he is going. Wherever he is going.
My friend and I we stayed connected like the branches on the tree and we had come in contact as life’s winds blew. We’d write letters from time to time. I had planned to go se her again, one thing I so wanted to do. But the sun that rises on that day won’t ever be; at least not in this life and walk on Mother Earth. Unless, except maybe in a vision or some kind of dream, I will not see my dear friend again until I am ready to walk the other side when Creator calls me to the stars and my energy changes and my soul meets Creator God. Then I shall see my friend again – in reality.
This reality that’s real around me now, still a pleasing gentle breeze graces the air. The tasty smell of food is gone but replaced with the smell of freshly cut grass as a closer neighbor is mowing now. The coming and going, growling of the mower almost overtakes the birds in their songs. A dove now joins in. The dogs are now reminding me.
It must be past their dinner time. Their internal clocks are so reliable. I am sure they think if they weren’t so adamantly punching at me now that I would never remember to feed them. Maybe I could forget from time to time were it not for those little paws that reach up to me and those sweet brown eyes that look so intent and the voice – little barks telling me, their master, “Ha! I, the dog, I say what to do!”
Well the sun is now closer to the horizon; the gentle breeze blows a bit cooler. I had thought I’d go to church with my parents tonight, but missed the opportunity. I traded it for this solitude. Still I am not alone. God is in my heart and I am reminded so of the awesomeness that Creator God is just by observing and experiencing nature even in my own back yard. I am enchanted by the Creator’s alarm clocks as again these little griffons pat me on the legs and remind me – it’s time. It’s somewhere – and here, likely it was an hour ago.