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This mid-winter's eve the starlight is a chorus, singing of times long ago in galaxies unknown. I hear it as a melody, as if the stars were perfect notes on an inky sky. It is music for the eyes enough to warm my heart, as if in all this grand arena its steady beat is the drum.
The curtains add an orange glow to the morning light, every morning a perfect sunrise. It reminds Haydon of of the times he slept in a beach hut, watching the ocean emerge under the golden shimmer. For a moment his mind conjures the rhythmic waves, soft on the sandy shore and feels his heart beat to the same slow pace. He breaths in deeply. A new day has begun. He reaches his had out to the fabric, noticing how up close the light pours through every open space between fibres, no different from how it once came through the beach-hut walls, illuminating like brilliant fire-flies each dawn. The material is warm beneath his fingers, and when the sun floods the room, painting the colours anew, he feels a little of those golden rays soak into his skin.
The grass is a sea with white-dew-foam upon crests that rise so freely toward the sunlight. She is every green from gold-infused to deepest summer foliage. Perhaps in a few weeks, when the sun is warmer once more and the tops are neatly trimmed, she will be as a quiet as harbour waters, flat and calm, but for now she is joyous waves, natural and wild.
As the long summer days linger in our memories, nature rests her rainbow palette. In their place she brings out the colours of beach and woodland, soothing us into a quiet reflection. We walk through pictures shown so beautifully by the winter sun; each as bathed in love as the one before. Be it the blue of sea or sky, or every shade of brown from almost white to almost black, it brings a peaceful harmony. Yet in this choir of colours, mother nature keeps by a little green, a little red, for the holly tree, the evergreens and robins. And after this rest, this deep breath of cool fresh air, we are ready for the sweet mischief of spring.
It was Excalibur, shining in the sun as if it were fashioned from the brilliant rays themselves. The broad silvery metal was warmed, as was the rock it rested upon. In all the landscape it was the thing that drew the eye, a symbol of the kind of bravery that enables others to find their own courage, to be more than they thought themselves able to be. Yet, as the moon, it was a reflection of the sunlight, of love's own energy and the duty of protection.
Of course you're empty; where's your safe harbour, away from the gales and the storms? Where is the fuel you need to fill up? Do you pause for love, healthy food and vibrant bouquets of dreams? To be healthy, there must be nurture. So come on, my love, let us refill and rest as kindred souls. Love has need to flow, in isolation it becomes nothing at all.
When others see gloom, I see the world in silver-blues. When they see freezing rain, I see a coldness that brings me to a higher feeling of life, more aware of my internal flame. I see them cast their eyes to the ground, their mouth a full frown, when there is a moon above and stars beyond the canopy of cloud. There is a time for sunshine, and a time for wintry sombre hues. Every dance has pause, every song has silence. And so this time, so soon after the dawn, feels more akin to an old movie, one that builds from these blues to the kind of joy that spreads through mind, body and soul. And so I feel the ground beneath both boots, tilt my head skyward, both rooted in the blessed moment and ready for the spring that beckons.
The suicide epidemic rocked the foundation of the consumerist world. The fear from the media caused anxiety in some, aggression in others. Social media hijacked the biological need to fit in, an area of the brain hard-wired to anxiety by evolution - at a low level it's positive, but exaggerated it's an actual form of torture. It wasn't just the social media though, it was the fashion industry, movies... you name it. So many had a hand in it. The short term solution was to unplug from the fear, the social pressures, the adverts as much as possible... retreat to music, to art and sport... to find time to be with friends and love nature. The real fix was a societal shift away from materialism and back to something soulful, loving, empathic and kind.
I love you like you're the last of my kind. It is as if you speak the same language as I, yet no other is able. To be around you is like finally not being alone - as if all my life I've been isolated, in a windowless room, in a doorless room... and then suddenly you walk in as if strolling over a summer meadow. How is that you are so much more than sunshine? How is it you breathe life when no other can? Why is it you are my medicine? Who could love me more than you? So, my love, know this - while I breathe I am yours in mind, body and soul.
Pavements move as a great river of humanity, the roads rivers of cars. These buildings that have seen the modern age pass, standing in silent witness, weathered rocks stretching toward blue sky. Here in our capital, in this canvas of life, the art of each face is something to savour. We are one nation in all our colours and faiths, all British under this spring sunshine, appreciating the golden daffodils who wave from beneath the trees. There is a pride in my chest, for my country who fought nazi ideology, to be one family, to choose love over hate and discrimination. And so, I join the flow, one of millions, connected and separate, in liberty with a sense of belonging.
Mankind is an interesting bunch, so much self deception at all levels, from the individual mind right up through their societal structures. The most difficult work they value the least, it appears as a patriarchal means of dominance, to keep the appearance of higher status while avoiding the more difficult tasks. It starts with the traditional roles of women, clearly the most demanding and important role - the raising of the young combined with many skilled tasks in a single day whilst maintaining emotional intelligence and endurance. For the most part, the men (and many women) avoid these roles in favour of repetitive tasks where they can assert a level of expertise and control. Even here though, in the world of work outside the home, the same principle applies. A person who does hard labour with their body is least rewarded in their economic system and those who do little other than talk or operate simple machines (with no artistic skill/creativity) reap the highest reward. Clearly the ones most needed to keep working hard at a risk to their health have least freedom, respect and reward.
It should be concluded that, although the human race is largely unaware, their system is based on abuse of power from the most loving relationships right up to national and international relationships. If they could only learn the trick of cooperation, become fraternal, they'd have a real chance to be a trusted intergalactic species. But, quite frankly, like this... they're a laughing stock. All that so called intelligence and they are still working on how to be fair and loving to one another. I struggle to think of any first class species that fails to master that in childhood. So much potential; I guess we list them as a "To Be Watched" species and monitor the health of the planet overall. Given the conditions they are content for many to live and die in, squalor and starvation, when it could so easily be eradicated, star command has legitimate doubts for their rehabilitation
The future is fabulous. When we got the universal basic income there was time to do God's work. We volunteered, we had fun with the kids, we helped each other out. I gotta tell you, it's as if we were asleep before - alive and not really all at once. We have a community again, something my granny would approve of. The robots taking the bad jobs, the AI removing masses of people from banking and law, it made us human again. Everything is play - science, math, reading, music, sculpture, dance, philosophy... We have festivals, so many of them! Without all the stress we're so much healthier in body, mind and soul. With the new techno-agriculture and building ways, nature has room to thrive too, it's what you guys would think of as heaven, or paradise, a promised land of peace. Get here soon, okay?