Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Water

I listen to the rain hitting the roof with welcomed fury. As the water that pours, my soul seems to be bubbling in heat. Not sure what sort of heat is pulling me like the string on an arch, but it is there, regardless if I see it or not. Like water left on fire for too long, my edges are spilling, looking for new boundaries and new experiences.

Being Earth, for me Water is a need that goes back to the peace of the primordial dream. Because my roots run too deep and I only feel the tremors of Earth when the volcano starts erupting, I need the free fall of water in order to feel and connect my emotions. In different ways, I respond to water as much as to mountains, two of the loves of my spirit.

Between mountains, looking at their rocky crowns that lived there for day after day from the beginning of time, I feel the peace of that which does not change. I listen to their story and, less human, I can just belong and be one. It tells me of storms that beat, of fires that ravage, of life, and yet all pass, almost without a mark. Mountains remind me that once  the inferno is gone, I can still stand straight asking for more. They teach me that peace runs deep, away from my tiny human struggles. That like the mountains that should be cherished, so my soul lives from age to age and life to life. Mountains sing of my roots that run deep, in generations gone and yet to come. Like water, they calm me.

Out of the water, the most I love the ocean and the storms. They sing to me of all that changes, and yet it stays the same. With every white crest of wave, my soul can dance and jump and remembers to live in the magic of the moments. Because like the waves of the ocean that are lost if one doesn't look, so it life that flows by second after second. Storms sing of the wilderness I dream of, of being without censure, of forgetting thought and allowing feeling to exist.

The rivers, the lakes are so much calmer, like a meditation for awareness. One needs to be still and silent to see the river flowing in the ocean ad the lakes gently expanding on the shores. And yet, even with almost still water, my heart longs for the tumult of the tide, when all is changed or transformed into another illusion.

Because I'm too much Earth, too deep, almost but not really stuck, I need the tumult of water, the force of emotion to discover change.

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