Sometimes like now… I sit here gazing at the dog next to my foot so amicably sleeping on the intricate patterned rug— and the cat, so contentedly licking his fur in the chair next to me and you— sitting opposite me, writing in your journal… I sigh, with happiness. And then I think of the endings— How there will be no new episodes replayed of this life— no second chances, nor good moments relived and I sigh again, this time with such a bittersweet melancholy I shock myself— Until I see beneath my foot the repeating patterns of the mandala rug suggesting how very wrong I may be. Elizabeth Spring
A perfect symbol in an imperfect world, mandalas both manmade or formed by the natural world.
Yet sometimes it is the wordless message that moves us the most. And symbolism, to the receptive mind, is a very powerful teacher.
Another gentle but thought provoking poem, Elizabeth. And it has movement, from thought to thought, which you know I love.🙂❤️
The scene, so clearly described, is a gift, a memory for you and an imagined moment of peaceful reflection for the rest of us.
And I just edited it! Sometimes I am just too quick to put the first impulse up here....