Raz
Bluelighter
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but five well-placed words leave all my senses immersed.
I think about growth and evolution a lot. I think about plants that have remained largely unchanged while human animals built and destroyed our own worlds around them. I think about the cyclical nature of life, and how devastation begets art and beauty and new life and how those forces turn and turn and never end.
I can smell change in the air, and it’s slow but it’s there. It’s good. The air is full of steam and heat and insects buzz around me and small creatures hide as they wait for their turn in the spotlight. They can sense that it all works out in the end, and that reassures me.
Standing on that primeval lip of the world, I’m reassured that it will all work out in the end. This world is a macrocosm for me, for all of us; and no matter what happens to this world, it endures. It survives. It thrives. It learns to live in new ways and it never loses its dignity. It loves itself and it knows that it will all work out in the end. It will all work out in the end.
It’s nice to know that. On the ancient volcanic rim, it’s nice to know that every part of the world has a meaning and a place and it’s nice to know that what we are is far more important than what we are not. It’s nice to be a part of this world.
I think about growth and evolution a lot. I think about plants that have remained largely unchanged while human animals built and destroyed our own worlds around them. I think about the cyclical nature of life, and how devastation begets art and beauty and new life and how those forces turn and turn and never end.
I can smell change in the air, and it’s slow but it’s there. It’s good. The air is full of steam and heat and insects buzz around me and small creatures hide as they wait for their turn in the spotlight. They can sense that it all works out in the end, and that reassures me.
Standing on that primeval lip of the world, I’m reassured that it will all work out in the end. This world is a macrocosm for me, for all of us; and no matter what happens to this world, it endures. It survives. It thrives. It learns to live in new ways and it never loses its dignity. It loves itself and it knows that it will all work out in the end. It will all work out in the end.
It’s nice to know that. On the ancient volcanic rim, it’s nice to know that every part of the world has a meaning and a place and it’s nice to know that what we are is far more important than what we are not. It’s nice to be a part of this world.
