Friday 7 November 2014

Colour Peace

In moments of pure serenity, when the sun sinks slow, and the colours are bright; when the soft breeze cools and the painted grass is churned; when still waters run free to places unknown, it is these moments of purest peace where we see who we really are or who we really wish to be. Could it be that these moments were what we were made for? What we were originally made to thrive in? Moments of inner peace so intense, the soul knows nothing but this peace. It was in this moment that I sat, I watched.
A rustling noise had wrestled sleep from my mind. Sitting up and gazing through the tent screen revealed a sight I had longed to see. The great hippopotamus. Yes, Africa is full of hippos. But to see one in all its glory traversing the ground I traverse, that was my wish. And there in the peaceful stillness of the morning she stood. Leaving no thought to worry, she seemed to enjoy the early peace of morning light gently painting the grass she ate.
With the hippo being a mere ten yards or so from the tent, I did not dare move. I could only watch and soak in what was given. A moment of peace, this hippo had it. There was no concern for the upcoming day, no longing for a better life or wonder for food. As the sun edged the blackness of night away, the hippo gracefully slipped back into the stillness of the water. As though the life on dirt represented an abundance or hardship, she sought refuge in the stillness of the river-never to appear until dusk reigned again.
Peace? Where has it gone? A creature destitute of reason or any intelligence higher then how to eat and procreate, initiates a life more abundant with peace then I. Could it be that a world gone astray has given a peace that we think sufficient, and in turn we expel the true peace of the soul? Slipping into the still waters of the morning the hippo reflected the image of peace that to often slips from my mind into the peaceful waters of a forgotten past.

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