Somewhere along the woody roads, the icy cold streams of one’s imagination can be heard, beckoning the unknown to come forward and take a plunge into the night. The woods are a lovely place, for it is where the earth comes into existence, where the earth becomes a fountainhead for all the beauty, for all the life, for all the wonderful things that nature has given us.
The song birds chirp happily, letting the song of their heart diffuse into the air, until a faint fragrance of life itself hangs lightly in the atmosphere. The Spirit of Dreams descends into the forest and brings with him the dust of hope, sprinkling it onto all that can be touched, and the soft glitter of this dust warms the heart and brings to it solace from the storms of everyday life. Silken threads of sleep bind us and gently lay us on the forest floor to become one with the meaning of life, and bring to us the cravings of our hearts. What would we be without nature’s dust shimmering in the twilight bringing ease to our minds?
The streams are made of crystals, sparkling like rainbows formed at the first shower of spring. Like cubes of ice, the water slips off the tips of our fingers, leaving traces of a frigid freshness. The golden fish glide through the silver moonlight, catching the rays on their fins as they dance to the music of life. The river cleanses all the dirt in our souls, leaving us at peace with a polished heart of gold. The water heals all that it flows over, and the blood of our hearts is returned. The water spirits smile brightly on the river bed.
The wind locks the trees in a dance inescapable, bringing to life the heart of the woods. The leaves rustle, the branches shake, and the blossoms fall, making a carpet at our feet to lead us softly into the heart of its dreams. Butterflies flutter, playing games with the ancient and wise trees, laughing as the leaves fall softly to the ground. The leaves are Mischief himself, harmless but fun, shading us from the moonlight, and letting in the sunlight at noon. The trees admonish these little fluttering leaves, leaving a mist of their breath hanging loose in the air, waiting to fall onto our eyelids as we sleep. Oh, dancing leaves, swaying trees, keep the world at your feet and protect it.
Dewdrops on the mossy floor glisten at the crack of dawn, like embedded diamonds singing the song of their soul. Each flower having flavored dew, attracts the honeybees to sing softly, whispering in their ears. The drops on the grass bring to the musky Earth a gift as they trickle down the stalk. The dewdrops bring a promise of life renewed, a life we have only dared to dream of. As the day does progress, growing older, unto death, the dewdrops slowly disappear, with a vow to return at the rebirth of a new beginning. They are tied to the dawn of a new day, the birth of a new start, these dewdrops of my heart.
Sadly, the beauty is fading fast, merging into the artificial pseudo-ecstasy, the temporary intoxication given by the most lethal of drugs. The song of life grows fainter at every passing moment, as more of nature is taken away, to heed the addiction of the material world. If only we could learn to live in harmony with the life around us, if only we could respect this special gift, this gift of nature, the elixir of life and death. There is no intoxication, like that of nature dwelling in our hearts.
Note: I got the above image from Utsav’s Blog.