"August Glory" (Text & Image Copyright Wylddane Productions, LLC)
“If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh
Yesterday afternoon, a gentle shift in the wind ushered summer’s heavy breath away. Cooler, drier air moved in, as if the very sky had decided to cleanse itself. This morning, that change was waiting for me—wrapped in fresh air that greeted my first step into the garden.
Coffee cup in hand, I wandered the familiar paths, accompanied by the song of birds, the playful rustle of leaves, and the quiet padding of my furry companions. The August garden was lush and generous.
Everywhere, blooms unfurled their colors—vivid, unashamed, and bright against the steady green.
And then I saw them—these pale blossoms, clustered like clouds against the deep shadows of the leaves. Light shimmered upon them as if caught in a whispered blessing. In moments like this, I feel myself both rooted and set free. The morning greets me, and I greet the morning, in a silent exchange older than memory.
Such moments are my meditation, my prayer. My spirit drinks deeply from this well of wholeness. Rumi once said, “I have been a seeker and I still am, but I stopped asking the books and the stars. I started listening to the teaching of my soul.”
And so I listen now.
What will I learn today? What story will I write upon the open page of these hours? What can I offer this day that will make it more whole, more loving, more kind? Worries and cares still hover at the edge of thought, tugging at my sleeve. But here, in this morning light, I choose to let them rest.
Peace will be my companion. Love will be my guide. Kindness will be my work.
And the day, like the blossoms before me, will open.
~Wylddane
Yesterday afternoon, a gentle shift in the wind ushered summer’s heavy breath away. Cooler, drier air moved in, as if the very sky had decided to cleanse itself. This morning, that change was waiting for me—wrapped in fresh air that greeted my first step into the garden.
Coffee cup in hand, I wandered the familiar paths, accompanied by the song of birds, the playful rustle of leaves, and the quiet padding of my furry companions. The August garden was lush and generous.
Everywhere, blooms unfurled their colors—vivid, unashamed, and bright against the steady green.
And then I saw them—these pale blossoms, clustered like clouds against the deep shadows of the leaves. Light shimmered upon them as if caught in a whispered blessing. In moments like this, I feel myself both rooted and set free. The morning greets me, and I greet the morning, in a silent exchange older than memory.
Such moments are my meditation, my prayer. My spirit drinks deeply from this well of wholeness. Rumi once said, “I have been a seeker and I still am, but I stopped asking the books and the stars. I started listening to the teaching of my soul.”
And so I listen now.
What will I learn today? What story will I write upon the open page of these hours? What can I offer this day that will make it more whole, more loving, more kind? Worries and cares still hover at the edge of thought, tugging at my sleeve. But here, in this morning light, I choose to let them rest.
Peace will be my companion. Love will be my guide. Kindness will be my work.
And the day, like the blossoms before me, will open.
~Wylddane
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