When the rain-soaked roads look towards the sky hooded by strands of cloud, the air picks up and moves noiselessly. The hills are drenched, partly under a screen of floating fog. Leaves on slim branches of young trees, rustle in the gentle wind that doesn’t seem to exhaust its slight motion. Patches in the mud collect the water that had befallen unto its hard surface, which is now mushy, underneath the weight of a dripping sky, that doesn’t stop leaking.
The mud has crevices, which are pitchers of freshwater, now mingled with its soil grains. Hills are hidden behind a thin film of gaseous white, looking farther than they actually are. The nearer clouds are to land, the more distant and spacious appears the world around me. Who did this? The trail of cloud hanging low over the hilltop? Or the impression of a sky laying claim to the land I am on, as its own territory?
When the sky stretches down, it opens us by a crack, to the infinitude of heights that we deny our immediate surroundings, wherever we are. The height of the universe is immeasurable. So is its width. Our need for stability compels us to estimate all that falls under the view of our eyes, and all that passes through our minds.
But how could a part judge its whole? Is there a way? If so, I’d love to know. If not, I’d love to embrace the cosmos in its unbounded magnitude. Either way, isn’t the cosmos wholesome in what it is? Leaving the size of the entirety we’re part of, to the realms of the unknown, I feel contented and excited.
Irrespective of our perceptions, the spirit that graces every nook and cranny, flows through us too. And this is the connection we so long for. It’s the roots to our trees. We need to nourish ourselves and grow on our own, centering ourselves in this spirit. A lot of things contribute to our lives. Life itself is a marvel, and it is embellished by marvels. We are only required to make the necessary journey, in order to stack on experiences, which, otherwise, wouldn’t have been ours.
This makes it paramount for us to truly revel in the gifts that are strewn on our respective paths. We ought to use them properly and carry forward the message we choose for ourselves. We should learn to unravel ourselves and resonate with what we are, in each phase of our experiences. Growing as we change, we progress in life. This propels our life to progress. Eventually, this progress percolates, and awakens our spirit.
Like dew on grass that soaks into our bare feet when we walk through, toward the fresh horizon.