Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Thursday, August 06, 2015

Celebrate the Day

If I didn't know better I would have thought the fall season was under way. The sun hiding behind the clouds left a drape of dreariness to the day. Temperatures much cooler than they have been in months and even the trees are beginning to change colors as some of the leaves can be seen falling to the ground. I find that this typically happens at the end of August as I can remember school shopping for sweaters and winter clothing to find that September would think other wise and belt us with a few more hot summer like days.
There is an unusual silence to the day that seems to pare up with the stillness that  makes it feel like a freshly painted canvas. The only movement that could be found was from my own stretching to wake up and start the day. The  morning also came with a clearing of mind. On a occasion I find that I can rise above the negativity. As I listened to various people share their problems, nothing really seem to be so important that I could not put it a side. Life is the gift and in celebrating a moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. In some ways it is not that anything really changes but that our way of digesting life provides us with an optional view.
Aware that another season is not to far off, I find a sadness in preparing to say our goodbyes to summer. Yet as I look back I find that everything has a time. It may be the end of a chapter, turning of a page or the review of a story read long ago. All part of the formation of character, which reveals we never stop learning and growing.
Thinking back it reminded me of something my sister did. There were moments as children when she let jealousy get the best of her. One day we were young children and my grandmother gave us jewelry boxes that had a little ballerina that danced to a music box when you opened the lid. My ballerina had some how broken off and I didn't give it much thought. Almost fifty years later my sister confessed that she broke her ballerina and switched the boxes. She went on to tell me of a few other not so nice things that she did. She carried that with her for all those years. She needed to let go of something she did , that I didn't even know happened. The point is sometimes we carry a heavy weight which matters very little to our current moment. Waking up this morning I felt that renewal of a clear canvas. For the gift of life is magic waiting to be opened with each sunrise.

The sun is brightly shining
though the clouds are gray,
the skies a welcoming blue
come through in their own way.

Life is truly special
we get one time around
to share the magic
that in our heart is found.

Breaking the silence,
with laughter in the day,
warming the soul
in an amazing way.

The sun is brightly shining
though the clouds are gray,
the skies a welcoming blue
come through in their own way.

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