I sit upon a sofa with two windows on the world. The one is black, but I know what's beyond: a broken world of sorrow and division; a hard-bitten, scrabbling, heartless place; a gaping toothy maw that roars and devours but cannot console. It darkens minds and hardens hearts.
The other is bright bluish white, a patch of new morning sky fringed in treetops gently swaying. It draws me nearer, and I see the birds pass, two by two: matched pairs of geese and mismatched mallards; a scarlet cardinal singing lovesongs to his rosy bride. On the lawn below two cock robins scuffle; a squirrel rifles through the greening grass, seeking breakfast. The morning sun is warm on my face, and when I close my eyes and breath deeply, I know that I live as they do: for blue skies and breezes, for love and a bit of breakfast. A heart beats between my lungs; my eyes drink deep from the springs of Spring; a soul stirs, stretches, awakens.
The black window looms, flat and opaque, but it's frame holds nothing for me. Truth cannot slip through so refined a screen. I open the window, and the living world chirps and buzzes and greets the new day with wonder and joy.
Wonder and joy...who knew?
We did, once, but sometimes we forget.
Labels: musings, spring