Posts Tagged With: sky

Empty Space

Funny how we talk about the universe as being something when it’s full of nothing.

It’s like that YouTube video where a teacher fills a jar with golf balls. Like the jar, the universe may seem filled with stars, planets, asteroids, comets, dark matter. Yet, between the golf balls, there’s still so much empty space, and even the balls are composed of atoms, which are composed of neutrons and electrons spinning around a nucleus, and what lies between these sub-microscopic bits of matter if not more space?

That’s why they call the universe “outer space”. Because, between every planet, every star, every body of substance, lie miles and light-years of nothing. Even here, on this planet we call our own. The land the water, solid rock, even us. We are full of empty space.

And yet, we exist. We breathe, we think, we change. We live, in spite of the prevalence of nothing. We are nothing, and yet we are.

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I climb one of your paths, pine needles crunching beneath me, eyes drifting to the clouds guarding your peak. I will climb until I reach it, even should my leg muscles snap or blood run from the holes in my shoes. Do not tempt me with guilt, for I refuse to believe that I’m running away. No, I’m running forward. Perhaps up there, balanced between heaven and earth, I’ll find the answers I need.

Stand tall then, and take me heavenward; for who but a mountain could reach so near eternity?

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The Storm

God, make it let up a little, my thoughts cried, my eyes fighting and failing to see past the walls of water whipping the ambulance. Sickly purple flashes tore up the darkness. Dim, faraway glows from street lights trickled through the flying rain, barely reaching me behind the wheel.

A brilliant blue-green fractured the storm; then black night. “There goes the power.” My partner sounded calmer than he looked when the next lightning bolt illuminated his face.

All I could see was water sheeting the windshield. My hands gripped the wheel, as though I could actually keep this truck in place if the river beneath our tires ran too high. The storm was Goliath, and I was the rock in David’s sling. And right now, I wasn’t even sure whose side God was on.

Somehow, we found our way to the patient—a man who’d decided a bruised elbow required an ambulance ride at 2AM in the middle of a Missouri hurricane. But, by the time we left the scene, I realized I could now see the road through the beating windshield wipers. A hint of relief flickered in my heart.

Later, as we left the hospital, blood finally replaced the adrenaline in my veins. Lightning ripped the distant east; leaves, branches, even trees lay strewn across the road. But what was left of the rain sprinkled down like a lullaby.

“Well, that was an adventure,” I told my partner.

“Too much of an adventure for me,” he replied.

I chuckled. God must have decided we weren’t ready to meet him face to face.

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Sun Shower

A billow of darkness rolls from the west. The bruised sky shadows the land, shading all in a sickly twilight. To the east, a sliver of light battles to hold the horizon; but it can not prevail against the undulating squall.

A silver burst batters the darkness; a roll of unearthly drums shivers each blade of grass. All is still now; the air itself holds its breath.

Then, with a gasp, it unleashes all its pent-up energy with the music of wind and water. The deluge rushes to earth, playing each tree and rock and flower like a symphony. On and on it plays, washing the air with its cleansing melody. On and on, until even the darkness begins to break apart.

And then, shards of sunlight stab earthward, drawing warmth from dampened soil. Still, a moment longer, the droplets shower down as from a fountain, the light painting each a brilliant diamond.

And, as the light strengthens and the diamonds taper off, a sharpness lingers. The fragrance of grass is sweeter, the whistle of birds brighter, and the sunlight smells of a laughing brook at daybreak. All is clean; as the sun sets, a new day begins.

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The Sky

I used to lie in the grass, gazing up at the blue canvas stretched from horizon to horizon. My eyes would swim among the clouds, my imagination running free. I knew, somehow, that even if I stood upon the tallest mountain—that aloof, elusive realm would evade my grasp, laughing at my efforts to reach it.

And yet, there were moments—moments when my heart would swell, and Impossibility itself would crumble around me, and I would stretch my hand toward the heavens. And that endless blue would whisper in my ear . . . “reach but a little higher.”

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Sky and Ocean

I waded knee-deep into the bay where a simple fishing boat cradled her body. Gray hair encircled a face forever frozen in tranquility, yet a sword lay upon her breast.

A few hundred watched from the shore. Thousands would mourn her, yet few would truly believe. She was a protector, a war hero; of her life, songs were already sung.

Surely the heavens could not need her as the people of Gildaresh did.

But alas, even legends must die.

And so, my tears like rain upon the water, I gave the boat a gentle shove and watched the current bear her away.

Somewhere, just beyond that far horizon, the sky meets the ocean. As she sailed toward infinity, I imagined I saw her rise, and step from the boat, and take her place amid the clouds.

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