The World
There was a forest. Tall proud trees lined the sky in all directions. The rich purple flowers reaching for the sun were just blooming into life. All around lay reminants of the harsh death of winter.
In this forest there lived a very small but very beautiful stream. The water was cold and frosty with reflections of a bitter winter still held tightly in its memory. Finally able to stir and move, it stretched into paths leading to the land and mist.
The mist was a still and ever present feature in the forest. At times, the mist overtook all creatures and matter engulfing light to make day no longer. The forest slowed and not even the leaves could find the will to fall onto the floor where the mist blinded the path.
But ever so slowly the mist was replaced by bright yellow and green buds pushing their way through the earth. In this manner all things responded with eruptions of color. Blue, purple, yellow, red, violet, and green overtook all that the mist had covered. Life was reborn with a single ray of light reflecting hope of rebirth.
The soil that lay sleepy at their feet suddenly felt the urge to awaken and breath. The breath of trees, flowers, ferns and water flowed through the soil. It was time once again to be born and to birth.
It is in this way the world learns to survive. A single drop of water, a single ray of sun made the world wake up. No one thing can survive without the help of a another. Even the soil, small and meek, can hold up a forest and that forest can hold up the world.
Peace,
S.M.A
COMMENTS
-