Quote of the day...er...week...umm...hey, look, a quote!!

Tibi gratias agimus quod nihil fumas.

It says "...freedom of...", not "...freedom from...".

Nolite te bastardes carburundorum!

"It's amazing to me how many people think that voting to have the government give poor people money is compassion. Helping poor and suffering people is compassion. Voting for our government to use guns to give money to help poor and suffering people is immoral self-righteous bullying laziness. People need to be fed, medicated, educated, clothed, and sheltered, and if we're compassionate we'll help them, but you get no moral credit for forcing other people to do what you think is right. There is great joy in helping people, but no joy in doing it at gunpoint." - Penn Jillette

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

A Moment

Deep blue sky reaching past the boundaries of sight, uniformly blue, blue in three dimensions; clear of sulphur yellow, of jet fuel brown, of traces and trails, marks of human restlessness.

Trees greening into Summer, pale Spring lace forgotten, left behind for shades of deepest verdure, marking their territory with shadows.

Wind softening to breeze, apology for home-and-hearth battering storms, trees shivering and shaking with the memory of last night's angry blows, whispering of roots tested and tried, of bending without breaking and next time, next time, maybe...

Wrapped in the moment stand I, head tilted slightly back, slightly sidewise, eyes slitted against the brightness of the blue, self welcoming the softness of the air's motion, breathing in the scent, soaking in the silence that is not silence but rather lack-of-human sounds that is defined as silence in this cellphone punctuated, bass-heavy-angry-music fouled, horn shattered modern life.

Without child stand I, a blessed moment alone, no one to answer to, to chastise, to love so noisily that it sends Nature scrambling back, away, except the insect kin who don't hear us as we hear ourselves and so continue on their intersecting spiral pathways, seeking or returning with food, defending, exploring, wondering why the sudden darkness or crush and smush, bewildered by the colorful lines of chalk that keep them from their way with designs to grand for their tiny selves to comprehend, so much like us in our effort to ravel the chaos beyond our ken.

Just that one little span of time, but timeless enough that it could have been hours, days, a span equal to the one note that sounded before everything went from nothing to all.

When we look, when we don't look, when we forget to look, life is replete with these small moments, grace notes to the busy, busy, busy...

4 comments:

Greta said...

It always feels like take a deep breath of fresh air when I come here ;)

KC said...

What an amazing talent you have! Your prose is inspiring.

Kyddryn said...

Gee, thanks y'all!!

Magpie said...

Lovely.