Epiphany

A sleepless night found me walking along the promenade watching the sun rise this morning. Something I used to see a lot at sea, and also in past lives labouring or shift-working. Rarely now.

Never, ever tired of it. It placed me on a rocky water-covered sphere, spinning its film of life around a nuclear furnace (thanks Bran), falling through the void; lifting the night and my heart however heavy, and for a time at least, making me connect with the celestial realm in its glorious, endless procession through the universe.

I will always remember this dawn as apart from all other's though, graced as it was by a sudden spear point of wild geese, flying out from the west toward the sun, their rasping calls fracturing the silence, making my heart shudder in my chest. Placing me for an instant in the Now, and in the Eternal simultaneously. Magic. Sun magic.
Sol Invictus.

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

-Mary Oliver