Streams of tears flow outwardly
The light within intermingles with darkness
The once lush trees of life stand stark, bare, raw.
The heart hibernates
While the winter of grief settles in.
Yesterday, I had a plan which I carefully mapped out. I knew exactly where I had been, where I needed to go, and how to get there. It was comfortable and so I walked with my head held high. Confident.
Then today happened. Before I slipped out of the warm covers, everything had changed. The room was heavy. My heart was heavier. My vision blurred. I struggled to see the world around me. The weight burdened my heart further, like Winter’s heaviest, wettest snow pushing branches to the ground, nearly past their breaking point.
In this tenuous space, I grumbled to no avail and sank into the quicksand of despair. No sunrise or sunset was magnificent. Flowers were full. Food was blah. My inner flame was now a nearly burned out ember.
Tomorrow is a new today, they say.
And so today I heard the faintest whisper, “You are the author of your life. You write the next scene the way you want it to go.”
Time stopped. I surrendered.
My brain engaged. If I am the author of my own life, then how do I want the next scene to go? How do I want to feel?
Beneath my self-created concerns, words came to me again as a whisper, “Joyful laughter and filled with hope. Free of fear.”
The dormant gears finally began turning, and I looked around.
Does the darkness bring me joy or hope? I opened the curtains as the light streamed into room.
And, so I began the next chapter with my guiding questions… Will this bring me joy? Will this bring me hope? Will this make me happy?
And so I am renewed in the light of love…The author of my own story…
Namaste,
L & Muse
She acquiesced her freedom
to grow where she was planted
so that she might embody
the spirit of giving, generosity,
the holder of ornate treasures,
the one who bears the light in the darkest days
sacrificing her own life for the joy of others…
She beams in the twilight hours
surrounded by love.
Namaste,
L and Muse