Dining outside yesterday, alongside an urban, but calm street, the beams of sun, just like the cars, hummed gently, no need for brake or throttle. And I felt simply in it. There was life and motion, not to throw but inspire. A slow dance of body in air. And would I have felt different, being a blade of grass? Reaching. Among. Within. About.
How do you capture a sunny day? I’ve been trying. Foolish, I suppose. To be a blade afraid of winter. When all there is, is green.
And isn’t it the same with love? Not lost. Even in its final winter, there will be spring. I feel the hum of those who have passed. Music in my heart. No need for brake or throttle, it stays alive within me. My ever green. My sunny days.
For some it’s the cardinal. Others a butterfly. Others still, a hummingbird, a dragonfly, a feather, a stone. All symbols, messages from a loved one who has passed. The beautiful thing is, the list can change and grow, and can never be wrong.
I suppose it has always been the case, we see what we want to see. And it has me thinking, if I can see the beauty of those in my life who have gone before me, if I can see their goodness still, feel their love still, in a random flutter, or a lifeless object, then certainly, wouldn’t it make sense that I, we, could see the goodness in each other? That we could see, before the flutter, mid-stumble, a beauty still, of all those around us.
Because certainly the ones we loved were never flawless. Never without mistake. But oh, how we love them still. How we would forgive any flaw to hold them again. I’m not saying it would be all that simple, but I’m thinking, I’m hoping, what if I could get to that point with everyone near and far? Give them the grace I allow my cardinals, my butterflies. Love them with all of my heart.
As they sing and say, “I suppose I’m a dreamer…” but I’m going to give it my humble attempt. And in my humble failings and flaws, maybe you will see the love in me as well, as I stumble before the flutter.
