Footsteps of Fall: A Brief Reflection
There are a finite number of stars in the sky, and yet we gaze up and see an infinite number of them. Our perception falters to appreciation, in seeing this colossal beauty and wondering why our paths are directly beneath it.
Why do we, then, imagine ourselves the masters of our own lives? Can we control all the facets of our day-to-day routines; put our hands around them and tinker like commanding watchmakers over the gears and cogs that turn the hands of our fates ... or are we merely trying to count stars?
Where do we find the strength to face the ever expanding skies of our dreams, of hopes and failures? In each other, in ourselves, or the revolving seasons that so dutifully share their touch: these constants we neglect to notice; how a leaf falls, crisp and dying, from a tree, or a feather from its roost ... even the sigh of wintry air that winks out a candle. These seemingly unimportant details are unfaltering. Can we learn from the chaos that surrounds us, in such simple motions, to see the same duality that persists in ourselves?
There is a sense of peace as immense as the skies themselves, in realizing that our paths--chaotic and winding where they will--are not so controllable as they are observable. We may not be masters of the universe, but we are masters of ourselves. If we can take a moment to realize that there is peace in the eye of the storm, then we may live to see through it, and to learn something before we leave.
The first winds of autumn have arrived. It could not have come sooner. There's something peaceful about watching the ground blanket with gold, bronze, and scarlet leaves.
There are a few new poems written here. Thank you to those who took a few moments to reflect with me.