Dawn Comes
This is one of my favorite paintings of Paul Klee– one I got to see in person in Switzerland. The title, together with the moon, give it humor and timelessness. Our longing toward wholeness and timelessness is universal, along with those numinous moments that bring us back to awareness. Here is a story of what happened this week–
On Saturday I woke before dawn wondering, who turned on the light outside in the woods? I walked out to our front porch and the enormous moon was perched in an opening in the canopy, casting sparkles on our creek. I sat and listened to the sounds– everything was just right, even the air was not too hot or too cold. I closed my eyes, there were no human or mechanical sounds– only the movement of water over stone becoming one with cricket song. These sounds go back how much further than us humans? Millions or billions of years? Surely the moon has been appearing and disappearing even longer–
After some time I looked up at the sky– dawn was drawing near, so there were only three faint, faraway stars visible. It is too late for stars, I thought to myself. Then, WHOOSH! An immense rolling golden ball of light sailed close by, across the tips of the trees and into the opening with the moon. It was so near, I felt it just above my head. That moment lasted an eternity, then poof! The enormous shooting star vanished.
Mary Oliver says what I cannot, in her poem: Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches:
Meanwhile, once in a while, I have chanced, among the quick things,upon the immutable.What more could one ask?And I would touch the faces of the daises,and I would bow down to think about it.That was then, which hasn’t ended yet.