I have a little dream of my own where the day begins with the bread dough baking in our oven while my hubby oscillates in the little cobbled stoned backyard, trying to gather the right wood for our fireplace and have the dogs in civilised chaos. Fluttering above the domestic excitement on the balcony above our humble white-washed home, I stand bright and active fluffing last week's dust off our blanket while it basks in the remaining warmth of a passing summer as the dark obsidian wooden exterior of our house fittings reflect the virgin coolness of a gentle autumn breezing across our lives.
As reliable as seconds growing into the minutes of another day, so will we welcome another sunset. And with that, another day lived. I look into a future that we will look back at the many sunsets that we have seen in a lifetime. Some vaguely hazy, some fiery clear. Each consisting the same message of a place going to sleep while another awakes. And this particular sunset tonight was no different.
Just like how we piece together every jigsaw of a day to form the picture that we desire, there is always one last bit that is just out of our human reach. I call it the touch of godliness. That drop of divinity so essential in imparting a sense of beginning, even at the end of another day spent. Like how life itself has taken the first breath in the primordial world as the shell of the sacred waters broke to put forth the flow of the cycle of rebirth and death, we take on the secret ancient message of living and just being alive... even for that very moment in time.
As reliable as seconds growing into the minutes of another day, so will we welcome another sunset. And with that, another day lived. I look into a future that we will look back at the many sunsets that we have seen in a lifetime. Some vaguely hazy, some fiery clear. Each consisting the same message of a place going to sleep while another awakes. And this particular sunset tonight was no different.
Just like how we piece together every jigsaw of a day to form the picture that we desire, there is always one last bit that is just out of our human reach. I call it the touch of godliness. That drop of divinity so essential in imparting a sense of beginning, even at the end of another day spent. Like how life itself has taken the first breath in the primordial world as the shell of the sacred waters broke to put forth the flow of the cycle of rebirth and death, we take on the secret ancient message of living and just being alive... even for that very moment in time.
