A Blow to the Face: A Love Letter to the Earth
Oh dear heart, you have done it once again.
Here I was in the weight of my day, buffeted by desires and discomforts, awash in the flood of undone tasks clamoring for attention. I hopped the curb and tripped over my dog and as soon as I gained my feet - you smacked me in the face with one of your fresh spring blooms.
A raindrop, still lingering despite the sun drenched morning, sat suddenly upon my cheek, its wet imprint more alive than the rest of my body combined. And in its subtle waiting to be absorbed, a stillness overtakes me.
I allow time for my eyes to find the blurry blossoms barely not caressing my cheek, to see - for the first time this spring - their ephemeral and eternal fragility.
Who am I but a bud on the branch, born for a brief breeze before bowing to the fruit which follows?
What a gift to be but one stage in an infinite becoming.
And I want to cry with it, the love I suddenly feel for the whole world. I know that in a moment my material worries will return, animal that I am. (Already I can hear the children shrieking.) But for now I choose to be here with you, our souls touching like reflections on the water.
For you are the water, and I am the wave.
I blew myself, I bless myself. Love bless this current and this day.