Blades of Colour
… flitting about so fast and sudden they are barely visible. During the day, at this time of year, they are the fairies of the garden, only catching them at the corner of my eye. Before I can focus on one it is away in pursuit of whatever it chases around the green carpet of grass, lush after the summer rains.
Orange and steel blue darting about, I could almost wonder where and what and how. But the mystery remains, so obvious, ‘tis my own immemorial self. Have you ever looked inside and seen the primordial you? And know instinctively what it is and does.
The intelligent form in the darkness through which you rose from the knowledge of stone and wind and fire, made supple by the waters of the earth, the movement of the tides. As the forms and functions of nature. To see my self in a wasp, or colour, or …
Up through the jagged landscape of a time where nature crosses to human, inside. The endless cacophony of perpetual change. The maelstrom of being and becoming. See the red and grey grit of the ancient twilit self.
Have you seen the waterless deep of being beyond that? The dark light of a quiet star? Beyond heat and cold, up and down, inside and out.
Where there is nothing, left, to speak of.
A flash of colour in the darkness is all it is sometimes, that moment of elevation, an opening of the veil. A little more clarity.
Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge