Reflection A cup of kindness

Rooted in Memory

Mountains, rivers, and trees. Individual elements of Earth that each have roots, yet whose systems intertwine. Ancient snow-capped stone with foundations that reach warmth below, underground tributaries whose waters gather in the dark and emerge into the light; kind waters offering a drink to all who thirst... and leaves green with life, rustling in the wind, whilst wooden fingers travel deep the mire (around stone, in search of water) to anchor the existence of growth above.

I suppose the human person is most like a tree, we have life and we experience growth, but we have nothing, no physical extension to hold us firm in place. Our blood and ancestry can sometimes lead us to places where we discover belonging. Memory, however, is our truest anchor and will hold us near our Source.

There is a mountain beneath our souls and within the blood of our veins a river of life. What shall our hands create and bring forth into the light? Our memories are collections of what we will become; what we choose to remember gathers in the dark and what we imagine will pool into the light. The cup we offer to those who thirst will become the purest existence we have, here. Kind water for parched lips... eternal love that washes over the soul.

Each loving act a new memory -roots that hold us firm.

Bill Hudson   # December 31, 2013

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