Symphonies of Light"

Beneath the cedar's sheltering branches, I observe as rain descends upon the field in somber, horizontal sheets. In the hedgerows, hawthorn berries exhibit a deepening shade of red, while the oaks timidly shed their initial brown and crimson leaves. Attempting to decipher the madness of this fractured world seems futile; some days, all I perceive is the impending arrival of a protracted winter, with no memory of spring. Yet, in these disheartening times marked by shattered dreams, broken hearts, and fraying social contracts, could something nameless and new be slowly seeping through the crevices?

When the fires have consumed everything to ashes, is it possible for something fresh and tender to emerge, nourished by the untamed beauty of the world? Despite the advice I've received, I am learning to utter the words 'I want': I desire to raise my children and gaze at the ocean without a cloud of sadness, I yearn to visit the city with you, and together, observe the people, the streetlights, and the evolving hues of the evening sky.

Beneath the cedar tree, the earth emits a sweet, fertile aroma, and the gentle breeze whispers through the boughs of yellowing ash trees. "Slow down," it implores, "allow yourself a moment to breathe; you require this time to grieve, to hibernate, to rejuvenate. Be patient, be kind; all things take time." I've been told that some of the atoms comprising us are ancient, billions of years old, born within the hearts of distant stars, meticulously arranged to think, feel, and create music, if only for a brief moment. I'm uncertain about many things, but this, I've been assured, is an undeniable physical truth.

In the midst of all the uncertainty, what can we offer this astonishing, grieving world apart from our truest selves? I may not comprehend much, but here, beneath the cedar tree, an ageless, star-born facet of my being insists that amid the turmoil, a new world is unfurling, and within the shadows, we are symphonies of light.

Thank you 🖤