See the kernels of sunlight sprinkled across the lawn . . . We’re turning into a new day’s glow, so all that shivering is over. We couldn’t fight the night, so we had to just ride it out, like a big wave that catches us as we’re tying to pull out.
It might be a wild ride, but it can be fun, too–if we can relax a little. At first we held tightly to the rails, white knuckled, tense from fear of falling, too stiff to try to stand. Knees, legs shaky, stomach flipping inside out, it felt like falling but it was more like flying.
It also seems like freedom: buoyant, lively, able, energized. When we are attuned to the enchained pulsations, our rhythms syncopate, and our song is born:
The trees are living instruments, like violins bowed by the rays of the sun. As the light streams past, each tree makes it’s own pitch, and the forest is a symphony. As the day goes on the song changes. It gets louder and softer, speeds up and down, changes melodies, and sometimes becomes a conspicuously beautiful audacious masterpiece.