Friday, November 18, 2011

Diamonds are made by decay, not ash.

Clear skies, peace, 33 degrees. I am at home. I hear no screaming, no gunfire, no banging on the door. Our health is as good as 69 years of life on the planet earth. Diamonds are made by decay not ash; that is why I chip and shred my excess tree branches, leaves and limbs. Food scraps decay as well. Meat decays as well but for gardens meat offers a place for dogs to dig. Digging dogs are hard on flower beds and gardens. Otherwise meat is not a problem in the mulch cycle.
I am having a cup of coffee at the moment and I feel good about by being on the planet earth. Technology, taxes and planning has offered me a pleasant life in this brick structure. Water, electricity and gas travel from a distance to my home. An international telephone and Internet system via satellite signals and cables enable the planet to say hello immediately.
I could be standing by a fire outside or just standing outside. It could be warm outside at the moment if I moved my body south to Florida or San Diego. I choose to pay for services in my brick home here in Kentucky. So the gas furnace heats my home and the electricity moves a fan which blows warm air into each room. My telephone service provides a land line and the Internet. A satellite service provides high definition television.
The Cave
Though the opening I could see the drawing on the wall of the cave. The fire was throwing warm light, creating movement in the still night. I sat, watching the drawing on the wall. They had painted the sun on the cave wall. I remember back this morning, feeling depressed and sad. I had felt that the world was against me. I had felt the pain in the back of my head. I had felt terrible. I thought I knew what to do, so I had walked to the side of this mountain and gathered some wood and kindling. I had sparked a fire with flint in this cave. The first time I had seen the drawing, it had reminded me of how simple the past can communicate with the present. The simple drawing of the sun on the cave wall spoke of a time past. The time where one human decided to communicate with the future. They decided to tell us that they knew the sun. The simple drawing, a old circle and radiating lines told of emotions gone by. They told the story of someone drawing in this cave. The life trying to reach forward into the future. A life with a history, a life willing to create a drawing. A life whose time frame has long since gone. A life that had lived and loved, fought and cried. A life that had walked and talked in this cave. A life that had seen the sun. Sitting in this cave I look at the sun and realize that I am not alone. Someone has left a message on this wall. I watch the drawing as the fire's reflection plays tricks and dance on this wall. I know that someone else has sat here and watched this sun as it danced and entertained them so long ago. My sadness is long gone, as I slowly understand what I see, the muscle in my neck has relaxed, the pain I understand. It leaves my body. I'll come back here and sit at some other time.
I'll again share the time with the one who painted the sun.

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