Not everywhere in the world is blessed with many sunny days in a row, so I feel myself fortunate to live in a bright and sunburnt land (most of the year). As I walked one day recently I felt God usher these poetic words into the vessel of my spirit.
About 2 PM one sunny day,
As I strode outside—no sign of grey,
There I was, and in quietness, stood,
“For life to stay like this—if only it would!”
A wondrous sky, foreboding above,
Ventured inward thoughts of love,
Stilled the heart—cherishing glee,
How is this life, to be so free?
Watching others enjoy each event,
Of their lives, and how each is spent,
Loving this time is the task at hand,
A glorious reality in which to stand.
This very moment seemed so surreal,
As if my spirit was saying, “Oh, what a deal!”
Such fleeting presences unfold bliss,
Times when our joy simply can’t miss.
Then quicker than belief this now time ends,
No point really rejecting reality’s lens,
The wonders of life come and go,
In patience, more come—we should know.
Life under the blue dome has its good and bad,
Why on earth should we feel so sad?
Joy is patience—to bear the harder time,
To endure the horrors of life, that bark “Crime!”
Life under the blue dome, or perhaps ours is grey,
The choice we have is to choose our say,
Joy is a thing most personally relevant,
Oh what a benefit it is to feel so benevolent.
Enjoying Surreal Times for What They Are
It’s true, these times of internal benevolence, where we are just thrilled to be alive, do come and go. They appear oh so fleeting. And we are tempted to grasp at them, to retain them, and to relive them.
Life under the blue dome, or under a grey dome, or inside, or underground; it doesn’t really matter where we are. Appreciating the significance of golden moments as they arrive is all we can do with them—to just stay present.
Enjoying surreal moments for what they are, without feeling robbed and resentful as they disappear from view, is the object of maturity, of acceptance, of the ability to let go. Just like recovery from loss—eventually we are best blessed when we come to the right form of letting go. And when we let go we discover the beauty of going back, freely, as much as we wish, without needing to stay there.
The joy of life is letting go. When we can let go, the experience of the beauty in the things we let go of is again attainable. Suddenly we are able to go back without needing to stay there.
© 2012 S. J. Wickham.