Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Woodlands and White Caps and Winds

Why the woodlands and the whitecaps and winds turn something on inside me I'll never quite know; all I know is how I feel when I meet them and spend time with them.
The deep mystery of the forest...the earth smells, the moss, the trees, the ferns. The sense that you're never really sure what flora, fauna you will come across...always something different. Little surprises around every corner; why one could simply walk slowly in a very small radious and see such a world as to be drawn in for hours...watching and drinking in the lovelyness of that place, that tiny minuscule place in the the vast universe we live in. Perhaps its solidarity of mind that knowing I can take this in, into my own person and experience it with depth of feeling, emotion and purpose; it may be a mere fact but there is no star in any of the millions of galaxies in the mighty universe that can claim such a fact. So woodlands envelope me and wrap your green haze about, creeping up around, choking out the dead, old of the past and rebirthing into something so amazing and delicious.
And then there are the whitecaps. The churning, pushing, billowing whitecaps. Mesmerizing. Draw me into you ocean waves! The salty water calling me in like the Sirens. A bright clear day and there they are wildly tossing and rolling into the shore. The tiny pebbles on the beach are not scared, no they are happy to be flushed and rushed over, they know they are getting polished and shined into something new and wonderful. They love the whitecaps too.
Wash me too whitecaps! Take me down and spray me with your bitter cold brine. The healing starts as I step into you and the shock of your love shoots through my veins!
Well wind here you come then. Softly lifting my hair and playing with my lips, kissing my cheeks with your tenderness and making my lashes flutter. Oh the wind is a tease because you can never see it or capture it. I can't stand and observe it...but it observes me and surrounds me! I am just a little tool of the wind to makes shapes with. So do it wind, create with me. Show me and teach me your talents, your swirling, wild ways. One day you go this way and the next you turn another, then up, then down. You may be running always running but I can see deeper than that, you are createing a masterpiece and I get to be a part of it. So sweet and so lovely the wind as it caresses my soul and takes me so high.
All these from you my God; such is your glory I cannot fathom.

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