Ghandi said. "True love is boundless like the ocean and, swelling within one, spreads itself out and, crossing all boundaries and frontiers, envelops the whole world." Romantic love is shallow until everything has been stripped away and each can see the faults clearly in one another and still embrace each other for who they really are. In love like this there is hope. I took up watercolour almost a year ago. I needed a way to express my creativity quickly. It has become a filter for heart ache. Lately I have been making handmade paper from recycled paintings. But my thoughts are back with the chickadees at the cabin. I long for their cheerful chatter, to feel the tickle of little feet while feeding them in my hands. I had wanted them to come to my daughter's hand but they hadn't....yet. Instead she watched them at mine and the little birds held her spellbound long beyond the typical toddler attention span. Birds like all wild animals live in a world that is beyond the human scope of that which we qualify and that which is quantifiable. It is in the secret realm of not being fully understood. They possess the mysterious that the human soul needs including a toddler. It's time to go home.
No comments:
Post a Comment