A water-encrusted bloom stands in absolute purity after the rain. It is very much like me after I've cried, sweated, or showered when I stand in blessed vulnerability and am able to feel without the usual protections, super-charged and glistening.
It was a small flower in a city garden with others, but its freshly-washed face decorated with tiny crystal globes that held the precious light called to me more than the others. It shown. The essence of courage and common beauty became infused with something special. It glowed, speaking of transcendence and the rain.
It silently spoke of being washed by the magic that fell from the sky, and also the cherished tears that were born there.
Knowing that the water-globes that magnify are only temporary I looked deeply into the expanded view they afforded. I saw the magnificent folds, wrinkles and separations I might not have been able to see otherwise even though it seemed natural and obvious in this moment.
2 comments:
Mmmmm...beautiful, evocative post, Brooks. I particularly like "Knowing that the water-globes that magnify are only temporary I looked deeply into the expanded view they afforded." There tends to be a sense that it's the things written in stone--stuff that's lasted--that we should pay the most attention to, but I suspect we can learn a lot from what's right now and completely ephemeral...
Great post thank you.
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