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moving towards different horizons

through the rising sun

leaving behind

patterns of dependency

seizing the unknown with generous confidence

that every new step

is bearing towards the threshold

to glory

joy

bathed in moonlight

as a silent brook

running steadily

towards its ocean

oceans of joy

embracing the earth

to keep it from

falling apart

clouds of confusion

keeps the stars out

leaving a misty grey of too many thoughts

and impressions

to be clarified

walking in spirals

losing sight of whatever it is

we are walking towards

on the edge of sanity

longing for something to hold on to

being painfully aware

that the most dangerous thing

is to believe we know

the moon is neither veiled

nor swallowed

but walking in and out clouds

as consciousness is walking in and out emotions

longing to shine bright

not a single cloud was there this morning

to swallow the moon

nothing there to veil the insights

nothing to disturb the mind

with misty impressions and several interpretations

for the intelligence to discern

there was the naked essence

of all things

and an invitation to face it

if we dare

if we wish

and if we have been given the gift

to see

waking up with dawn

is like a mothers caress

on an innocent cheek

feeling the light of consciousness

accompanying the light of day

on a light food

in a silent dance

no one is going to disturb

since most of the world is still asleep

and darkness just vanished

the moon was there this morning

as almost full as possible

before an ignorant cloud

unaware of its deed

swallowed it to leave

darkness receive the breaking day

but even in darkness

lies a hidden curiosity

to unfold the unknown

discover the invisible

grasp the intangible

and somewhere

the impatience of that curiosity

is running just beneath the skin

always waiting for light to break

into illumination

a soft wind has blown away the clouds

whispering cheerfully in the first dry leaves at the top of the trees

impatient to play with them, once they are dead

ready to fly free

in a soft fall

towards eternity

allowing the mystery

of resurrection

to be fulfilled

the hour is the same

but the darkness is dense and impenetrable by now

allowing the night to prolong

into the first conscious hours of the day

there is something soothing about it

an opening toward deep reflection

in a protected condition

the annual return

does not seem to have accustomed the mind

once again bewildered

even if grateful

for being able to engage the senses

in yet another way

autumn is the time of year

where the tender blue of the sky

is opening towards subtle insights

of immense depths

scattering every illusion

spun around the heart

to protect it from its own frail dependence

of that particular impulse called

life

that no science has yet found

a way to grasp

walking through layers of disillusion can seem painful

discouraging

even absurd

but the tender blue sky is there to remind us

that on the other side of darkness

light is impatient to return