My soul awakes in gracious light as silently as the dawn. What strikes the heart with mystery and awe is such a subtle interplay of light. The stirrings deep within my soul can hardly be defined.
What shifts in deep unconscious thought that slowly opens dungeon’s depths to this new dawning grace?
Day begins when what was blank and dark arises in wondrous shades of grey. Faint recognition soon gives way to hints of colour’s wonder. Then well before the glorious light of each new morning sun, we finally recognize and see the glory of colours extravagance as the drapes of grey’s muted framing are transmuted. What once was hinted at becomes pronounced and waits the moment of glorious declaration when brilliant light reaches out its breath and life invades-announcing vitality’s arrival.
So love stirs up within my soul, each moment undefined. As smooth as dawn, the process grows as silently I drift across horizons never seen. How can I, a stranger born, drift by your fragrance sweet and never feel your light? What marks the change in chance encounters, when suddenly I shift, from passing by, to sensing something new. Its subtle fragrance seems to call and so the certainty of dawn appears.
I stir, at first quite unaware, that light is pulling back the shackles of my guarded heart. Light has found a crevice deep and quietly our worlds begin to shift – drawn into each other’s distant embrace. The gravity of our event horizon draws us near. I slowly waken to the grey that once was undefined. As Life accelerates our coming dawn, I turn to find colour in your eyes. What once could never be foreseen, is now awaiting for the dawn of that electric arc – the dawning of the sun.
The shift is real, the wonder bright when light explodes across the chasm of our souls. Your eyes hold mine, your dance leaps forth and two are captivated by the rising song of Love. Intimacy holds promise in darkness deep but never can pronounce the marvel of the wonder of light’s first kiss. Intimacy grows in light. It’s fragrance cowers, if left in darkened corridors of the mind. When eyes are opened wide to the wonder of another, only then does light evoke the multicoloured brush of fingers on another’s face.
Author – Bill Tidsbury