The Hub Bubble Journal

 The heaven's avalanche cascades. Starlight bursts through earth's charade. In skies so dark hope has appeared, through silence thrown on the crisp air so clear. The North Star bright stares at The Plough and orders tides to settle down; A happy rain cloud gives one last shudder as it gently shakes on a word of thunder. Angels heads bow down to host Christ their saviour and holy ghost. It is quite innate in us all as children to be so in wonder of descriptive stories and prayers and oh how we love to feel a part of it all. 

  Campassion tilts the heart, until ready to pour. If there was any evidence of where love had begun; If I could plunge my hand into the belly of my soul, to bring forth the sapling of its origin, crisp and fresh; As the newborn truth of my desire for your happiness, would your doubts be quenched ... or recomposed as fears? In our quests to express the bond with what we know within and the frustrations we can feel to the lack of awareness in others ... it is in that wise moment that the deep truth touches us to reach toward compassion ... the tilting heart is always open.

 As the dusk arrives and the moss gathers on a thousand pebbles; As the colour strips away from the peeling clouds; As the dark night doubts, for just one second, before he allows the first star to splash its delight, lifting the darkness to the boon of twilight which draws the empty soul out from under the covers that are the tranquil mask over day; As the ocean falters on its decision and shakes hands with the moon as he turns on his projector; As the earth begins to shiver with heavy eyelids, unable to throw her glory into the prevailing light shimmer; As the moment of whispers and secrets is revealed as an audience sleeps; That's when all questions are answered. Accepting all that is as it is, relenting to the understanding that we can control but we are not in control. Man did not create the universe. That brings to bear its glory.

 Seasons skip, the foxgloves refuse. An array is imminent, they have learned the wall but not the sun; elegance but no scent. A small buff moth is thrown to the cool breeze, lost nomad seeking shelter dances into the shadows; no charisma without light. Tomorrow the sky may shimmer as foxgloves yawn to the warmth, sunkissed silhouettes caressing the wall like rain. Everything around us will remind us of just how glorious all life is, how every living organism depends on another ... all can change, be affected by the elements one on another. Precious nature relies on our protection. 

 You told me that the butterfly would always bring me news, Your presence I could count upon if she did dance around my shoes. When I woke up I wished for one to bring you close to me, Then as I sat out in the sun she sought to land upon my knee. Now my eyes pool silver rain as I look down to greet  A splendid butterfly ballet all spritely around my feet. We don't always see what or who is around us in our every day pursuits or take the time to realise just how beautiful and important every being we are connected to is. How wonderful to know this presence even though it may not be in our immediate gaze.