le coeur du papillon est tout petit
Mais il sens tout.
.
Il sait le temp pour faire un cocon.
Il sait quand émerger changé.
Et, il sait quand le mort est arrivé.
.
Mais, dans le coeur du papillon.
Le peur, ça n'éxiste pas.
Now I am remembering why it is that I avoid staying in one place for any considerable amount of time. One begins to grow comfortable and content, falling in an ordered lifestyle. Then suddenly (for the time will always come), he is forced to uproot his more fixed life, and this is more painful. When one is content to be constantly in motion, each change comes only as part of one, continually changing life. Then, even when the most dramatic of surprises arrives, it has little impact, and leaves no future scars on the heart.
The green rolling hills and cool, gentle breezes of my country life slide past me now - to the west, with the sun. Mixed emotions - elation and anxiety - drift in the air, as is expected in times of parting and change. But soon, the heavy uncertainty is lifted, and where doubt once hung profound and important in the air, now a sweet new melody sings: a citrus song teemed with the sun's golden choir. This is surely God's true song, and it calls not to mind the bass note of a humble "Amen," but instead warrants the praise of a simpler prayer - delicious!
Soon I will have returned to the "real world," though I feel like I enter a more complex and hectic place. After weeks far from the modern disturbances, it can be a bit of a shock to return, although some things are welcome. I will be in the comfort of water pumped right to my faucet, and electricity available at the flip of a switch. Truly though, these things were missed little, and only as conveniences, certainly not necessities. (Though after twenty days without, I cannot deny that a shower will be most pleasurable - yes, perhaps even delicious as well.)
I will miss the quiet, rather solitary life there, and I hope one day to return again. Though there is a place for everything, including the noise and pollution of civilization. And for now, Noël approaches. And friends. I have these things to look forward to. Then after, all have gone, and the excitement is past, work awaits, for I am poorer than poor at present. So, for a time my life may become fairly stationary, but I will never become too comfortable. My heart will never cease to swell when the winds come once again to fill the sails of my humble, bodily vessel.
