If asked to describe the sun, I would talk about her warmth. I would highlight the gracefulness of her movements. I would ramble about the way the sun draws me close every 12 hours or so, to bask, watch and marvel. I would have to point out her predictability and her life-giving power. The plants turn to find her for good reason.
If asked to describe the moon, I would have to close my eyes in contemplation. A moment to ponder might yield some words, but maybe not. The moon seems to understand silence, moods, nuances, glances and innuendos. Words are secondary. The moon has the effervescent glow of stardom wrapped around her shoulders. She knows the value of the present. Her presence in the moment is everything. She has no inhibitions, No reservations. She’s honest. Daring. Humble.
The relationship between the two lights ignites longing. They highlight the possibility in relationships. They cause us to look at one, but at the same time reminded of the other. This essence bears witness that love is confident giving that needs nothing in return; fully fortified with being whole and then emptied. Over and over again.
Is it any wonder we are drawn in consistently to look up and “circle ’round” with the stars, looking and listening for the wisdom of the ages?
And so the day winds down…the dishwasher runs and banana bread is finishing in the oven, filling the house with the aroma of winter. The lights are dim and lamps glow just like candles on a cold night long ago. Timeless. I can hear voices of family chattering in the other room. Soothing, melodic…beautiful. It seems exactly like it should. I’m rocking in a rocking chair that I purchased today. Grand baby Moses is coming Wednesday night and Grammy must be ready. 🙂
I opened the computer and read some poetry. I come across the line- “there is no house like the house of belonging.” I’m thinking on these words by David Whyte and decide they are true. So, so true!.
Don’t you think “words” and “winter” seem like kindred spirits? ‘It looks right to see them holding hands, giving knowing glances across the room. The dark and cold are accentuated by the warmth and glow in the winter house. The words becoming the fire we need. Truthfully, I’m not sure we would ever choose winter. We think of the trouble, the cold, the need for heating, the closed doors and windows to keep us safe from the elements. We’re too pragmatic. We would ask for a balmy 70 degree day year-round, But there is a knowing in our depths; a knowing that the seasons bring with it exactly what we need. A longing. We need to long. We need the anticipation.
I think we need the warmth of words and the excuse to sit in rocking chairs, snacking on banana bread. It’s winter after all.
The summer sun melted behind the mountain. My eyes were fixed upon the spot. I couldn’t look away; not just yet. The ground still emanated the gift of warmth from the suns rays; savoring it like a well worn letter from a lover. It seems that though the days are longer, we aren’t quite ready to let go. Some would call this miserly, while others deem it is wise to savor every drop. I’m inclined to believe the latter. The summer night brings it’s own orchestration as children’s voices laugh long and their bare feet run recklessly through the grasses. Innocence is alive a little longer. The earth likes to be needed and turns a little greener to catch the eyes of those passing by. The sky bursts with creativity as a peachy warm glow hangs in the gallery, staying long after the sun has whispered “good night”. Even saddened faces change with the beauty of silhouettes and dreams and I imagine after the walk amidst the glow, the faces lose their sadness. Long sighs of rest become commonplace. It is the gift the we get to hold close for a moment, as we faintly hear the ticking clock of seasons, the timing of winter, a reality that will reappear. Like a good memory, it will mean more to us when it is gone. Somewhere in the back of our minds we know this truth on a Summer night.