August had just passed and the blooming tree with its myriad birds had turned a shade redder. September rains lashed through the countryside and my favorite pastime seemed watching the aftermath. A cleansing ritual.
The magic of September was yet to be unleashed in all its strength, as I waited in anticipation for the skies to open into an orchestra. Night rains lent the Allegro.
Somewhere the horizon faded into the landscape briefly and before I knew it the crescendo of the sun was played out in full swing.
Enthralled, in amazement I watched as the sky lit into fire. Every cloud burnt in its own embers and every melting wisp of vapor led one to a dance of passion.
Had I known this would be the way I felt, as I stepped in with the trepidation of a child on stage, I would have been prepared. Being swept away in a current of fire and shared symphony was not what I thought I would encounter.
There I was standing – naked in thoughts, engulfed by the sweetest lessons life could ever teach me.
Gratitude would not suffice. Neither will my lips say the words but burn deep into my soul, carving the name, as never touched before- it seemed the best surrender.
‘Become who you are,’ it whispered in my ears gently.
Had I waited any longer death was imminent not to the self but to my spirits. It was destined in the skies that burning out was not the way it would end but lighting the fire to brilliance and watching it in awe. Maybe my love and deep threads of nature reached out to the soul; that saw past it all and wanted a part of it, in its journey.
September skies will live on in memories. It was simply ‘meant to be’.