Sacred Silence

 

I wake up with the sun beating down the glass window panel one of my moms favorite song rings through my ears, “Dont worry about a thing, ‘Cause every little thing gonna be all right…Rise up this morning, smile with the risin’ sun”. She leaps across the the hall to my room and flicks on my light and unravels the mummy I have made with my covers. We both stare at each other with our a flicker of our green and hazel brown eyes. She twirls back into the kitchen to prepare a quick tea or breakfast on a good day. We then scramble to grab our lime green weathered yoga mats, our waters for refreshing ourselves when we dehydrate, and a towels to wipe the salty sweet sweaty love we release from our healthy hearts. Then the car honks and time ticks for us to hit the road to our sacred place.

 

Together we sit peering through the glass window at the sun emerges far up in the puffy white clouds and the roaring ocean with a flock of seagulls flying towards the green towering mountains. I continue to look outside but my mind anxiously drags me back to check the time on my phone. The universe creates time for those who settle outside of themselves because they are afraid of failure. Although my mom dreams in silence as her eyes stare with solitude and energy like a wooden buddha loving life. We park the car to step foot in an aroma of incense with purity and an aura of acceptance.

 

Our names are scribbled onto a piece of paper, and we walk into the ancient wooden tree sliced into thousands of slivers to create a ground folding into the white stucco walls. My ten fingers scurry down the green mat so each corner can melt into the ground. My mom is like a blossoming pink rose when she unfolds her green stem and each pedal exposes as her legs cross in the center with ease.

 

Then the wrinkled, veiny, thriving feet who have walked through the never ending rusty dark tunnels and the luscious green fields, gently grabs onto gravity as she enters the hollow tree room.  My mom is a flower and I am a bud surrounding an ancient tree giving us shade with every leaf, and each crevasse is a connection to our soul shining as glowing gold rays. We move with the tree limbs reaching for the sky and brushing with the wind tickles our backs.

 

The room echoes with the brisk winds surrounding our bodies but also from the tip of our toes to the top of our head we create our own wind. Our eyes blinded by others we shake sending energy like a rock rippling through water. I become silent and my eyes brush against my eyelids staring in black blures with a waterfall whispering through eardrums. My soul begins to untangle preparing each petal for the exerting push of my presence in this wide world.

 

My mom a flower bloomed growing every day as she shares her pollen with yellow and black buzzing bees. Her pollen is a gold drink for the soul for those about to sting she helps create honey. Her soul is magical as she shakes with stillness, so when every limb is quiet there is no difference. She dances with herself and i dance with her for she heels my spirit and allows me to bloom in the one universe we have a chance to live in.