I ran down the long corridor, away from the future, as my tiny feet longed to be grounded in a place that would never be mine. Even at three, I knew — mum not far behind. Goodbye does mean. Just that. I guess I had bonded. At three, if you get a chance. You love. Arms outstretched. So the longing that has plagued my spirit, written in essays, spoken in want, snatched away when she was three — was first, and always, a delicate belonging to nature. I have longed too long. So I pondered what it meant to belong. I suppose Christ himself would be quite pleased to know that I believe I belong to Him and all that He imagined earth to be. With heaven as aim. So therefore, I look around and know that yesterday, today and tomorrow I am at one, in harmony, at peace. With Creation. This is where I have always belonged. Where we all belong — if only to draw nearer. This Sunday morning I listened as two tiny finches perched on a wire above, chatted about I don’t know what. But I imagine. The breeze clangs songs of wind-chimes, reminding me of my earthly father. Gifts I can no longer graze. But feel. With overwhelming gratitude. Clouds are building sand-dripped formations, as if a small child were playing in the sky. Surely. Tiny pink ice tumbles from clay pots with exuberance. Both flora and fauna fly, wander, root, thirst. Journeying. Without question. Like, why am I here? A minute bug steps over jasper, searching for home, disappearing in a vacant seashell. He said it would be like this. Temporal. We never know when seasons will turn cryptic or drench us in warmth. The afternoon peek of sun behind cloud castles smoothes to diffusion. Colors show their vibrancy. There are no shadows. Heat is summer with us. And we, like them, have builtin cooling systems.
We are them. Capable of amazing feats.
How astonishing the Fairyfly, like a hidden woodland faerie come to life, unsung heroes of nature’s equipoise — or the ominous Blue Whale, King of Oceans, matrix engineers working God’s brilliance into perfection. What kinship of extreme size difference within an extraordinary, diverse and vast family of being.
I see. I hear. I am. He is.
I hope Christ is happy with me today, for I can be a pain.
Planted on solid ground, my corridor is full of wonder and adaptation.
I am longing my ode to belonging.
Amen.
One species kept long legs — ideal for sprinting — and small, sticky toe pads more often planted on terra firma. — Quanta Magazine, 2 Jan. 2024
But don’t forget this one thing, beloved, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. — 2 Peter 3:8
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