The Consolation of the Sky

The clouds this evening were like honey and milk. I am so grateful for the consolation of the sky. It's been one of those weeks, and the gentle linger of sunset was such a soft, comfortable beauty that it felt actually benevolent, even though I know all the rational facts of the atmosphere, the water cycle, the different formations of clouds. Sometimes I think we need to take our facts and sing them, dance them, and then we'll realise they aren't so much facts as the living poetry of the soul-infused world.

I can not look around me for loveliness. Every time I do, I see another tree missing, another wall or house gone up. Even the occassional flowers have gone now that winter is almost upon us. But I can look up. The sky is an endless source of beauty and conversation. And with the easing of the long bland summer, it is even more interesting than ever. I find it helpful to remember that I stand always within the sky; that it is not up there but all around me, and flowing through me; we are not just sisters and brothers of the trees and animals, but of the winds too, the moonbeams, the filaments of sea drifting through light, the world's breathing.

1 comment:

  1. sisters of the winds, and moonbeams, and the world's those words.

    and yes, what a comfort.


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