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It is a beautiful day. The sky is a blue that is so clear it almost takes your breath away. There are a few very fluffy clouds that seem to have been made from the purest of new fallen snow. The sun shines down with a gentle warmth that soothes every care from the mind and wipes all aches from the body. The breeze whispering through the leaves of the trees tells stories of far away places and adventures beyond knowing.
I lie here on my back under a weeping willow tree upon grass that is soft and fragrant. It has the almost yellowish, green color of young grass that has shot from the earth to greet the spring and the time of rebirth. There are two squirrels chasing each other through the tree limbs above me in a courtship ritual that befits their young and vibrant lives. Far off in the distance I can see a hawk circling slowly, rising ever higher on the warm updrafts of perfumed air. The whole world around me seems to be in a state of readiness and holding it’s breath in anticipation. There are no sounds around me anywhere save those of nature. I am not sure exactly where I am, but I am not concerned for some reason. I remember parking my car alongside the road, getting out, and just walking. The clean, fresh air wiped the last of the impurities from my soul and set me free. I just wandered where the wind led me for a while until I found this hillside. I have been so full of longing and desire for so long now that I had almost forgotten how to breathe. I close my eyes and take in long, slow, deep draughts of the sweet air. My chest expands and my heart surges new life through me. I am reborn. Hours passed with me barely moving from that spot. I sat so still that small animals came and went in the meadow below me. What am I waiting for? I am not certain; but I know it is not yet time to go. There is a reason for my being here. Maybe if I am very still and quiet the answer will come to me. The sun is going down on the other side of the hill. There are shades there that I have never seen before and have no description for. I feel my heart starting to swell with the beauty of it and feel a sense of loss at the thought of it disappearing so soon. The sun was gone now, and still I could not leave. I lay down on my back again and watched the stars. There were no city lights to dim the spectacle above me. Living in the city, we have forgotten what surrounds our world. The darker the night became, the brighter the stars. There was not even a moon that night to dim the splendor of the heavens. The stars dance you know. Slow and stately it seems to us from so far away; but there is a rhythm and a pattern to it. It occurred to me then that our lives are much the same. Suddenly there was a bright light to the right of my field of vision. It was a shooting star! How beautiful it was! One glorious moment of fire and speed, and then gone. I looked at the stars, still slowly circling above me, as if totally unaware of what had just happened. The small, bright light was gone, but the cosmos still existed. How sad, I thought. So quickly it came and went, and nothing to mark it’s passing; or was there? I began to understand. Our lives are a collection of what starts out seeming like a slow march that will last forever. While we travel through the years it seems as if there is no purpose to it, and no progress. Yet given the chance to see things from a different perspective we see that life, like the stars, is a gigantic dance. We, the human race, write the history of this world on a daily basis. It is hard for one person to see the way they fit into the whole thing; it is just too big. Then we grow old and the end is near, and we begin to wonder what we have done to make a difference. I thought about the shooting star. It was not wasted. I saw it! I remember it, and always will. It’s beauty will follow me for all of my days and will remind me of how mortal we all are. We are shooting stars; you and I. The beauty of what we could be may light up the dark night of someone’s soul. We burn hot and short in the dance of time. What I give to you and you to me may be only for a short while, but the beauty of our love can blaze a path across the night sky. Is that not worth the risk? Take my hand, my love. Come fly with me. © 1999 by D. Ron Mack Written 5/16/1999 |
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