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28 Mar

From Seeing to Touched

Beth Blog 0 0

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Stunned into stillness I could not even bow. The sunrise, like a tsunami, burst through the curtains as I greeted the day. Immediately James Taylor’s song “Fire and Rain” flooded my brain…”I’ve seen fire and rain.” But the song is of loss. This was not a greeting of loss. Carly Simon’s song “Touched by the Sun” washed away the loss.  I stood and watched the fire and rain, in the form of snow, melt into a blue sky. The sunrise was gone. We always count on the sunrise. It is an anchor, a promise, and a grounding for resiliency. Ask any hospice patient or family who’s loved one has been unexpectedly snatched away and the tenuous nature of that promise is evident in their face or at least in their heart.

As I stood chilled with my phone camera the whisper seemed to make a bridge. When we’re touched by the Sun we wait not for the sunrise…we ARE the sunrise. It’ll make us mad – Rumi mad where we know the price of kissing Love is our life. Rumi mad where “my loving goes running toward my life shouting ‘What a bargain, let’s buy it!'” I cannot wait. I cannot trust the sun to rise. I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain. “What is to give light must endure the burning” (Viktor Frankl). I want to be touched by the sun. Not tomorrow. Not some day. That’s the bridge… fire and rain assumes tomorrow. We are touched by the Sun today. Rumi’s madness. Frankl’s light. Whispered sweet mercy grace.

 

Fire and Rain

Touched by the Sun

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