An evening

There was something brilliant about the clouds that evening. While large parts of them blocked the sun, some of them were exposed to the sunlight that the rest of them preventing from falling on the earth below. These exposed clouds were an exquisite red-magenta. The glowed like a flame. As if Indra, the god of the sky, had shone his blazing form upon them and set these clouds on fire.

The light falling on the earth below had softened. In another half hour it would be quite dark. The trees straight had taken a blurred appearance, their edges softened by the dim light falling on them. The light was no longer highlighting each and everything here on the earth, but quickly, gently blessing everything in a warm embrace.

Boundaries seemed to be dissolving. The trees seem to melt into each other, as did the clouds, and a soft mist was setting in everywhere.

Little yellow leaves were scattered on the grass. Two leaves were falling at this very moment, as if doing a little dance, quietly turning in the breeze, swaying on their path down to the earth, and finally joining other leaves on the grass.

Everything here seemed to know its place in existence. The clouds, now moving, their red receding and being replaced by a dark grey-violet. The birds, singing their song of twilight. The last birds taking their last flights of the day. The mist in the air. The trees slowly turning inward, as if preparing to not communicate with the world until dawn arrives. Above, the clouds had parted to give a faint glimmer of the moon, faded, yet visible in its crescent outlines.

He was part of this. The order of nature, supremely perfect, alive since in the beginning of time, not yet destroyed despite man’s best efforts. A little ant crawled hurriedly on the space next to him.

Everything followed its nature, everything was there, without confusion, without mess. A dharma was being played out. The dance of the elements was evident. Everything did what it was meant to do. He too understood what he was meant to do. He saw, he became aware, he understood the nature of creation, of this vast firmament below which yet another day in the 15 billion year history of the universe was coming to an end. There had been numerous such days before, and there would be numerous such days thereafter. Yet, everything felt alive, fresh, new, as if every moment was a new creation.

Man was the last of all creatures in creation. He was created to know, to understand. To understand the supreme order of reality created by God. To understand to their depth the mists, the birds, the soft glow of the grass.

“I was a hidden treasure, I wished to be known. So I created the creation, and made myself known to them.” – Hadith Qudsi.

Everything was living out its calling. Everything was alive, truly and completely.

A flock of birds flew from the east to west. They were going home.

Despite the walkers chatting, despite the faint traffic sounds, a silence descended on the earth. It was time to retire.

~ by tdcatss on August 10, 2016.

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