Flower of Eternity

Here is the blip I did for yesterday of the implosion of Christchurch's Central Police Station. This is only the 2rd time in New Zealand that they have implosion a building. I was late getting home last night so put my blip up this morning.

Today I didn't venture to far as I had to catch up on things around the house. It sure was a lovely warm day and it felt like Autumn again instead of the first day of Winter. More cold weather is on its way.


Cosmos – Flowers of Eternity
We have cosmos flowers blooming in our house today.
Pale pink, lovely, pastel dancers floating in the light.
They express who they are, beyond any shadow of a doubt.

They know who they were meant to be.

No thinking about direction, or the right path to take, just a simple, dumb expression of who they have always been, from seed to flower and back again to seed.

Following the rhythm of light and the sun, of darkness and moon, of death sprouting to infinite multifarious expressions of the cosmos.

Cosmos…. Their name itself captures all of their purpose. To simply be.
The way and the path is difficult for us humans. We sweat and strain, worry, wonder, doubt and despair.

But there is a way for us too, a path as sure as any flower, tied also to the rhythms of the cosmos. There is a seed within us that wants to grow, that awaits moisture and rain, sustenance and sunshine. We are as much a plant as any.

We are of the species human. We are all seeds and blooms of the same genus. We have hell and heaven within us, but hell and heaven and pain and suffering are our nourishment, our sunshine. We bend and whip in the wind as our life grows toward the light.

We know not where we are going, or who we are, but the Life within knows, and struggles for full expression through our minds and bodies and eyes and hands groping through the darkness.

We are all straining to become flowers of the universe. The blooms we experience and continue to experience are of the heart. The heart of everything is growing through our heavens and hells.

The cosmos itself is blooming.
Poem by jimhilgendorf1