Sunday, August 5, 2012
Vines winding their way up along the edge,
rounding a corner and spreading their leaves
until the front wall is splendid in dark green
that makes love to the ancient stone.
The peace of movement and stillness,
the joy of how opposites attract.
Once upon a time,
the old castle facade was barren,
constantly stripped of the yearning tendrils that
sought to climb his walls and were instead
kept to the base to gaze up in wonder
at the hard surface,
the multi-sized rocks placed one upon the other
lending themselves to the protection of the fearful
against marauding bands of humans
bent on power and destruction.
And when the people were done with their
wars and desires for possession,
the vines joyfully sought the cool stone edifice
like a quilt finally able to
cover and comfort and heal.
scrolls of unwritten words
yet the meaning of life is clear
in the verdant swirls and sassy curls
with slim fingers beckoning "here, this way."
Tangle and twirl,
a net of interwoven wonder that becomes a blanket of love.
A winsome feather drifts down from the blue
and a tendril reaches out with tentative bend
to grasp the softness,
bringing it into the nook
where the light bone and delicate quills
decorate the vine
with a touch of the flight of distant visions
of peace upon the world.
The ivory bit of wing
a stark contrast among the green,
singing still the song of the dove.
Days pass and all is quiescent
until a gentle breeze carries
a puff of milkweed's downy breath with seeds clinging,
floating up and bobbing like it cannot make up its mind where to go.
Another supple green finger beckons
and the puff investigates,
tossed nearer by a laughing sylph,
and sighs in relief as it settles
into a home among the vines
that climb the sturdy walls
of the abandoned abode
of those who used to be
but are no more confined
by the walls they once hid behind
The milkweed puff expands its chest in breathless delight
and creates a vision of loveliness,
for within a crack of the wall was soil built up over time
and nourished by the cycling of vines living and dying,
and a single seed had stuck its head
into the richness to sleep and then the vines spread
ever so slight and opened a window of sunlight
upon the tiny space wherein the seed burst open in joy,
split its sides in laughter,
and up rose the stalk of empowerment
upon which the purple buds emerged
and then popped open with a delightful aroma
that called the winged whispers of
sienna and ebony satin poets-in-flight
to drink and expand ...
reproducing the sunset glow of themselves into the leaves.
The vines welcomed the stranger
who stayed in their midst,
closing around it gently at night
and opening again for morning light,
with pride and devotion the vines caressed the cocoon,
lullabies of the song from the immaculate plume nearby
were carried into the sacred space of renewal and transformation.
And when the time was
... just so ...
the vines provided a ledge upon which
the newly created being could drop and dry
and flutter away to spread the good news of life
and love in a new day, a new world.
The milkweed's purpose complete,
it sighed and fell into a deep sleep
leaving its body safely withering into the
faith of future generations
for before it sighed,
it too would provide
a seed pod from the blossoming of renewal,
an offering of self-less creation for those who may have need.
In the distance,
a lone dove,
her purity a beacon,
glided in close and
paused upon the green finger
offered in peace,
and plucked some downy delight with seed attached
into her beak,
and, nodding in gratitude,
flew into the orange half-globe of a new day.
The vines wriggled and giggled in glee,
and the stone face cracked a smile in contentment,
creating a broad line
and stretching the vines
with encouragement toward growth and
with deeply felt gratitude for communion.
As I settled to write this morning, I paused as usual, closing my eyes for a moment, and the first thing I saw as I opened my eyes was the design painted upon the cabinet across from my chair. From those images emerged the above story. What fun! I love how unexpected story flows from an image we've seen a thousand times.