Let the veil of silence fall presently over what happened afterwards.
Silence, too, can speak out.
“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”
― C.S. Lewis
(tiny tomato blooms basking in the sun / Julie Cook / 2015)
She teases, tantalizes and titilates, dancing in and out. . .
Often hiding behind a thin gossamer veil.
Embracing with tender warmth, she soothes and caresses weary souls.
Yet like a fickle temptress, her sweet warmth can grow hot with rage. . .
It is without warning that she can assail the unsuspecting with her wicked wrath.
Yet more often than not, she greets each day sweetly . . .
In a sleepy silence. . .growing ever more beautiful and bright.
She beams in glowing radiance. . .
Yet as it is with those of intense beauty, she has her darker days of melancholy. . .
Those dreary days when she is barely present. . .
Waxing and waning, lethargic and dull. . .
She broods within herself, hidden away as if tending a deep wound or insult.
And yet in spite of any perceived slight, she will reappear in her full glory. . .
Refreshed, glowing and once again her sly coy self. . .
As she merrily seduces all into complacent assumptions.
It is in like turn that she will offer up her full majesty with a triumphant fervor–
Spinning her passions while coaxing and summoning. . .
Pulling and prying that which was not from out of the darkness. . .
Willing the lifeless upward from the black void of nothingness. . .
As once again she works her magic,
Waving and stretching her radiant arms outward over all in need of light. . .