Tunnels

She sighs in her sleep and the music plays a little softer.

Oblivious.

…keeps nudging me in the eye with her little knee

Her tiny heartbeat synchronizes with mine and the beetle’s stride.

There is a frequency common to the living.

She draws closer, seeking sweet, comfortable warmth.

Defenseless, fragile, simple.

Often we stumble upon these lessons…

There is a shield in defenselessness

There is strength in fragility

There is mystery in simplicity

Sleep – is a most curious phenomenon

where life and death join sweaty, clammy hands swinging in turn to the breath’s rhythm

…I wonder what goes on behind those long lashes that I so envy.

 
Life is as a tunnel of crystals with a “light” at the end

The light is as a mirage – many  times we find it to be farther away than we perceived.

It is common that in pursuit of the light, we are kept from stopping to appreciate the beauty of the tunnel walls and that which litters it’s floors …the creatures that glow and shed light such that you might find comfort. The reflections bouncing off surfaces – forever dancing to the chime of the gentle trickle of water which feeds the creatures which feed your spirit. The gentle trickle of water which slowly forms the pillars – stalactites and stalagmites which bond in love and keep your world from crumbling about you.

There is life in the journey.
Life is the journey.

Love the little things – they count.

One must remember that every length of the tunnel counts as much as the light at the end. For whether there really is a light at the end and how bright that light may shine depends on how much of your heart went into the journey