17 August 2015
Tonight, I lounge on my deck, a cool breeze caressing my hair. I stepped on my basil plant, and its spicy, clean smell lingers. Crickets serenade as my family sleeps. My neck strains, the result of a collapsed disc and strained rotator cuff, so I adjust, eyes Heavenward. Always searching Heavenward.
Meteors fall, brilliant streaks across an inky sky. I feel at once microscopic and united with these bits of space. We hurl through our lives, hurried in pursuit, only to end as cosmic dust. The message resonates within my soul. How bright my flash? Will I survive to make an impact, or dissolve into fine powder before anyone realizes my departure?
I asked my fifteen year old to join me as I star-gazed. She surprised me. She joined me. We counted flashes gone before three blinks and talked of a favorite book by C.S. Lewis wherein stars descended. Although her stay remained brief, there in the dark I could recall the little beauty in the tutu who held my heart. Teenage years try relationships. I imagine ‘tis part of their purpose. Yet on a still, clear night, sitting beside each other, it is wonderful to remember a time when embraces weren’t rebuffed and holding hands was an everyday occurrence. No secrets, just trust.
In what seemed like three blinks, she retired; my budding beauty took her private concerns and insecurities to bed, leaving me alone with the stars.
I sent a thank you on the basil breezes. Three blinks might be fleeting, but they are all the more precious for their rarity. So much in life lasts but a blink, but a sigh, but the time it takes a tear to trickle over a reddened cheek and drip into the great beyond. A flash. A moment. Three blinks at most.
I suppose the aim is to keep a focus on the important moments, the flashes of beauty and brilliance, all while keeping the soul pointed Heavenward.
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