by klr
Whilst we gaze on high
suppose the stories are true
January night
I took these photos one late evening last week when driving home. Before I added the snow, adjusted the exposure on the branches and made the moon more yellow, I realized how nicely the three look together as a group and the collage turned out better than I thought it would...kind of a coincidence; and that is the extent of my creativity this week ;-) Then, someone who saw these photos suggested there might be a story behind them. I want to thank Jeanne; this is what I came up with as a result:
Moonlight is the theme. Be it light streaming through a stained glass window, moonlight casting shadows on forked tree branches, or the grandeur of a classic yellow moon, which we are privileged to look at most months of the year, they all touch the very light in us that longs to speak back. In the form of a certain qualified holiness, we respond with admiration and love in the forms of wistful poetry and inspired songs. We long to transcend that magical, invisible stairway to heaven where all life mysteries' answers are given and our souls set free.
Many a moon (pardon the cliche), I have planted moon flower seeds in my back yard, taking care that nothing disturbs them; and just as often they have not survived. The white blooms that result glow in the dark of the night, as do other seasonal species with white blossoms. By placing them in a hanging basket outside a bedroom window, or by an entry door, the vine stemmed flower sends a lovely fragrance indoors. So this year I hope a moon flower's little light will beam against a night sky..starry or not.
We have been captured by the moon's powerful haughtiness, as we are grateful and heartened by its kindly phosphorescence as a lamp or lantern to gently guide our way on a path, be it spiritual or actual. As a beacon in a lighthouse, we have romanticized it to the point that its mantle can make us tremble. It can be a welcome incandescence in a time of need, or a cue to a proposal.
So the light of flowers that provide a show in the garden at night will not be as luminous as the moon, but they will inspire us by exuding exquisite scents. Perhaps it is part of that same childhood moon of fairy tales we remember, and again sparks our wishful thinking. It's what hastens us to dare say from a small window in a country home nestled in a meadow, or from the rooftop of a city dwelling, "Goodnight, Moon."
Moonlight is the theme. Be it light streaming through a stained glass window, moonlight casting shadows on forked tree branches, or the grandeur of a classic yellow moon, which we are privileged to look at most months of the year, they all touch the very light in us that longs to speak back. In the form of a certain qualified holiness, we respond with admiration and love in the forms of wistful poetry and inspired songs. We long to transcend that magical, invisible stairway to heaven where all life mysteries' answers are given and our souls set free.
Many a moon (pardon the cliche), I have planted moon flower seeds in my back yard, taking care that nothing disturbs them; and just as often they have not survived. The white blooms that result glow in the dark of the night, as do other seasonal species with white blossoms. By placing them in a hanging basket outside a bedroom window, or by an entry door, the vine stemmed flower sends a lovely fragrance indoors. So this year I hope a moon flower's little light will beam against a night sky..starry or not.
We have been captured by the moon's powerful haughtiness, as we are grateful and heartened by its kindly phosphorescence as a lamp or lantern to gently guide our way on a path, be it spiritual or actual. As a beacon in a lighthouse, we have romanticized it to the point that its mantle can make us tremble. It can be a welcome incandescence in a time of need, or a cue to a proposal.
So the light of flowers that provide a show in the garden at night will not be as luminous as the moon, but they will inspire us by exuding exquisite scents. Perhaps it is part of that same childhood moon of fairy tales we remember, and again sparks our wishful thinking. It's what hastens us to dare say from a small window in a country home nestled in a meadow, or from the rooftop of a city dwelling, "Goodnight, Moon."
