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The Warmth of Dawn
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Hastily, she was already with tasks, the Sun barely rising over the line of the mountains, that ball of fire that drew rivers of gold in the sky, leaving nothing without any blinding around it. Without rest, at the beginning of the week or at the beginning of the morning, even if it was the beginning of the year, at the beginning of an hour o’clock… she tried to make everything stunning around her.
That eagerness began in the house, the room, where all things could be moved, or simply added with new details. Flowers were her favourites... no matter what kind, when they had grown, she would cut them and put them in the vases mixed with honeysuckle stems or tied with a beautiful bow and although she did everything from her heart, trying to start with the same glow of the astral King, there was something that disturbed her spirit.
Could she really do something enchanting, bring about some lasting change? Could she be as certain and sure as the sunrise so dazzling each morning? Could she create something so necessary and vital?
No, definitely not. That worried her greatly. Many mornings in her homework, she would stop for a moment to watch the huge ball of fire rise. So astounding and so accurate, she made everything around us come to life, possible. He gave us the possibility to grow, to exist, he gave us life and warmth, warmth to the bird's nest and light to the stem that grew in the field.
In the middle of her chores, she would stop to contemplate the sunrise, actually in no more than five minutes the sphere had already risen over the horizon, showing its perfect curve and remaining suspended with the best magic in front of our eyes. She was contemplating it, amused at the thought of finding the threads that secretly held that big sphere in the sky. Surely if people looked closely every day, they would discover the secret of this kind of magic. However, as people, we just dedicate ourselves to decorating our surroundings, we embellish things and temporary places that, compared to the king star, appear to us in a shameful ridiculousness or at least as an uncomfortable restlessness.
The light began to flood the room, the fireplace was golden, orange colours wanted to reign in her little room... she got up early and put her heart into every little thing she did. The red rose touched her heart, it was her heart indeed. The flower was filled with the warmth and the colour of her blood, of the life that ran through her veins. There was dedication and beauty and kindness in her work, but she was uneasy at how little value she could bring to all that effort.
She closed her eyes and she forsaw the same room several decades later, radically transformed or sadly demolished and being empty with time, without things. Fallen walls. She saw that, through those broken walls. Nevertheless, there was something that remained the same, unalterable: it was that orange light from the beloved predictable large sphere, which filtered through the fragmented glasses and now bathed the cracked walls, the empty chimney, the collapsed roof. In that vision she understood how ephemeral her arrangements were, how fragile the changes she made around her were!
Superfluous decorations are of no use because they are not durable over time.
The King Star taught her the value of certainty, stability and the true love towards things. In his right measure, he bathed them with his goodness and let them be, let them flow.
On that morning, at moments like that... she began to walk the valuable path, an interior one, perhaps not very visible to human eyes, but perceived by others through true feelings.
That morning, the idea of changing paintings, of arranging the flowers in the vase, did not make sense to her, that morning she was going to look at the orange light bathing the fields, the hills and there she stayed listening to the thanks giving in the songs of the birds. Thank you for the new day that life was giving away.
Through the window, she kept thinking about how to work those rivers of inner peace, how to see and feel that light inside her. She felt grateful to life.
The beauty began to walk from the outside to the inside.
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Total number of hits on all images: 3,335,198