Remembering words to a song, I forgot.
’In this Fire.. May fear be met.. and understood..’
I think of the long way we have come together. ’In this Fire, may peace reach within..’
The breeze sings her own song brought to scalable, though unpredictable and seemingly random sound, as she grabs momentarily hold of the leaves on these gentle old trees, who encircles the grove around the lake in this space in time. Humming along they make a grounding bass line to the orchestra of the night; animal cries, bird’s song, frogs singing and fire crackling. Sentiment added from the certain color cast back from the midnight Sun. He stays observing these annual events from out there at the edge of the world, sitting there ruling proud upon a neverending summer sky, Earth obeying his demand; denying the turn, still, and thus the night to grow dark-dark.
Into the dying embers we are temporarily hypnotized, journeying inwards and finding peace, as that Fire always provide.
Combined with and among prayer, blessings and conscious choosing a deliberate future and thus consciously deciding against others, a mystical light appears on this Midsummer’s culmination. We see it, we follow it, unable to comment, unable to find it weird as if it was expected, that light on this night. Such things have become the norm instead of peculiar, the eye adjusted, the mind no longer blown, and thus certain matters become transcendable, accessible, a new door opened. Out here everything seems magically normal. At last.
The teacher has no more advice to offer. Thank gOd. It means, that all we have left now is prayer. No more logic. No more analysis. It’s ’do or do not’-time, the journey has ended. At last.
Here comes the time of mercy. Grace.
A decision. Simply. One to be recieved and given in the same movement. Mutable. A full breath that includes and perhaps focuses on the small pause between the in- and the outbreath, the short space we always wonder about. What door that space holds?
Perhaps through where the night finds her way back to this simple prayer and merges with it, leaving her shift from Air to Water on it, as we also unite in this special, sacred prayer between man and woman.
Nature smiles at us, stretches and welcomes us in her motherly embrace, holds us there close to her heart, as we sleep safely underneath the starry vault of opportunity and preparation to awaken in the choices that become the dawn of new reality.
A sign spotted and mental noted from the road walks into my intended intention setting for this early morning’s seasonal planting, and latches onto my seed as I cast it into the portal, as it begins to open:
Presence is the only real education.