The MiContent Blog amongst many topics is a blog about blogging, and blogging often involves writing about one’s life. I’ve recently come to a realisation that I’ve been writing a lot about blogs, but I haven’t blogged much about my life or about writing, which is one of my main loves in life. In blogging about blogs, I also need to touch on these ultimately important subjects, as they are the main reasons that I, and most other bloggers (I presume) are writing. When I ‘Blog the Blue Sky of the Blogosphere’ I not only focus on blogs but on the blue skies, the life that is led beneath them, and the power and beauty that thoughts turned into written words can relate to others about life’s experiences.
Today I went for a bike ride. I live in the suburbs of a fairly sizeable Earth city and as of yet hadn’t found much nature to connect with (something I need for inspiration). Today I kept riding and riding. Earlier on I had gone to write and nothing would come out. I felt stuffed up, airless, a bit like a puddle of stagnant water with mosquito larvae swimming around (the larvae were my thousands of thoughts trying to break free of the slime and sludge).
Today was different. I found a river. I sat down next to it and because of what I witnessed, was forced to write…I also wrote again on the journey home. This is the poem that flowed through my synaptic gaps down into my hands and then out of the pen:
River’s Edge, Realising the Dancing Light
If I were a painter, I’d paint the scene before me now.
A brown river sits reflecting the world, but only for a moment.
The wind blows; small waves ripple; the Sun burns down.
Thus begins the dance of light that no artist may emulate.
Sparkles, stars, flick in and out of existence. Sometimes only a few,
Other moments, huge groups, galaxy-sized, flicker and float in waves
The river has come to life. From a few stray stars in pitch night
To an infinite array, so packed with numbers, fiery swirls form
As the sparks join together to become one.
They dance, unseen forces pushing and pulling to create wave rhythms
A storm of insects or birds imitate this natural pattern
Flashing in and out of existence faster than you’d like, but
That’s why it’s so beautiful.
The lights have separated again.
I can see a billion in the distance, and they’ve come to join these few.
The duck swims by, kookaburra calls, parakeet partners swoop downwards
Willy Wagtails pop from branch to branch on trees that have heard
This song that has been sung as long as they’ve remembered the Sun
Like a school of fish slowly floating by, the lights make their presence
Known. The blue sky hasn’t changed the river’s muddy colour.
Tiny vibrations on the water’s surface play the rhythm
That beat a drum whose life could only come from a power Unknown.
Tears of happiness flow understanding in streams and creeks
Upstream, underground, unseen, but oh-so-necessary for a beginning to come.
I don’t want to leave; we should remember that we’ve come.
Back out on the road, I cross the freeway and I realise
How many times I’ve driven by without knowing what beauty
Lay hidden beside. I see graffiti-a Star of David with a
Swastika inside, I’m back to the human realm. The pigeon just misses my head
As we fly in the same direction. The frightened colours of sacred birds are still
With me as I head back to the suburbs.
On the bicycle path more parakeets fly by my head, a girl talks on a
Mobile phone. Some people say hello and some don’t, and then I realise
I’m not the first to have witnessed this spectacle. There was another
Sign as I left the park behind: Wurundjeri Baluk-The traditional
Owners of the land welcomed me. No doubt many took time
To watch the Dancing Light
By Jesse S. Somer
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