Ebb and Flow of the Seasons words by ShyHawk(FM)
This morning I was drawn to an old canal at the foot of the mountain. The skies to the north were a softly brightening blue wisps of white clouds - appeared as smoke drifting upon a meandering current of gentle breeze. The skies to the south were gray with only glimmers of caressing deep yellow. Here the sun timidly makes his presence known A north wind blows;My breath can be seen reaching out across this great expanse of life . Brown leaves dance with the every changing tempo of Creator's breath In - out so delicately and intricately intertwining making their way to rest on Mother's cooled skirt this morn Only last week these same leaves were colored orange, red, gold adorning the trees with great beauty The trees were mirrored at their bases by rings of flamboyant foliage. This radiant scene has now been replaced by darker apparitions most of the leaves have been stripped from the tree tops their colors have faded to dull brown The beautiful mirrored rings have all blended into a brown mat Now - a oneness What contrast the bright colors that stirred my heart so now replaced by the many shades of gray of the trees' trunk and the aromatic brown carpet of the forest. The forest has now become a more restful place My heart does not leap with the kinetic energy of life now. A more serene spiritual feeling takes its place as I walk quietly in this new landscape of a new day - a new life. The water now filling the canal is black and calm
Many beautiful reflections have been seen in this dark mirror of life over the ages. Now -I see something different - unaccustomed A flexible skin now tries to grow across her surface to protect the life below over the long winter. The new ice skin is flexible it seems the skeletal vein patterns of old leaves have been deeply woven into her fabric - magnificent patterns. Sections float free and look like transparent fern leaves covering the dark water The animals are gone now. I no longer see the fish or hear the frogs that are abundant in this small body of water The ducks and geese have fled south with this years young I am alone in an area of subtle beauty Now to be shared with Creator and myself. The busy noises of insects have disappeared In their sted - the leaves rustle beneath my feet a smell of sweet earth fills my nostrils. I look to the rock bluff which skirts the far side of the canal. Here spring's water trickles between the rocks keeping the pond supplied with fresh water This morning the tiny flows are replaced by fragile icicles. These young winter stalagmites are not like the strong flows of deep hard winter but as the delicate hands of my aged grandmother. The sun has melted a lace pattern into them they appear so fragile - Yet so beautiful as they fight to cling to the rocks. Who will win this day Fall or Winter? Morning prayers are said here in this special place. Home to all life! Aho words by ShyHawk
early winter 2008 ©
Music by Paul Gray Morning Offering
Graphic made especially for Ebb and Flow of the Seasons by Evening Rain February 2008
Last updated on February 3, 2008