Come dance in my garden

On her toes, she danced through the misty lair chasing the mystery that lingered in the air…. A sweet murmur, a faint music, a whisper in her ears. Somedays in the rain, somedays all dripped with tears. A quiet stroll was enough, a stroll through the moonlit pond, shimmering and gleaming, all hazy in the dark. A light walks around the muddy grass, leaving imprints of her bare feet -light traces of her being …

When it comes to the allure of nature’s ingenious creations hardly anyone in the world is spared. But the thing about her is that she was deeply and invariably fascinated by its mystery, enchanted by its splendor. It was more of the feel she was fond of. The touch of breeze carrying the sweet fragrance of the flowers, the feel of the slickly stones slippery under her feet, the sound of the tinkling brooks hitting the rocks. She loved how the birds sing songs that hide the silent stories, all the secrets and the magic of the dwellers sheltered deep within the woods, in the streams, in the wind and in the blossoms with gossamer wings. They hide in the den, in the shimmers and glimmers and the twinkling rivers- in the heart of the forest they linger. And most of all in the creeping silence that fills the garden as the dusk spreads its dark wings. And she felt it all…a feeling she can’t shake off, it’s there she knows but can’t see nor touch,  every feel brought a lively sensation, every touch a revelation. She realized this is what is to be alive, to be blissful and to be divine.

Down the concrete stairs, wet and grassy, facing her little garden was her favorite spot. From there she could view the sun rays playing between the branches of the hawthorn, its wet bark trickling with water drops disappearing into the warmth of mud, birds playing and sprinkling the waters as the last rays of sun dies out, the murmur of the waterfall complimented by the tweeter of the birds, now sharp and loud as the dusk falls. She mostly enjoys shutting her eyes and feeling the warm pungent aroma of the flowers slowly enveloping her and being lost in these senses for a while… and the mere feeling it elicits is her awareness of being at the same time of not being …by dissolving into the vastness of nature.