How are our memories created? Where do our memories reside? What makes certain memories indelible while others fade away over time? How do the memories of those we love, those we live with, affect our lives? What is the best way to pause and honor the memory of those whom we never knew, but who made great sacrifices for us?
Some of these questions filtered through my head as I sat in the parked car, contemplating the path I was going to walk in the forest yesterday. I thought of the questions, and then let them go with love in the breeze, as I began the walk towards the river. A few minutes later, I was at one my favorite junctions, and the choice lay ahead – to walk the broad familiar or the unexplored narrow. I did not have my best walking shoes on, so, as if to say ‘what of that’, I chose the latter.
I followed the riverbank for a short while, and then re-traced my course in the other direction, pausing for quite a while on some of my favorite rocks in the middle of the river where the waters had receded enough to allow me passage. And, as often happens, the muse flowed words of remembrance in response to my questions. Some of these, I share with you. Maybe you will find some answers within…
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the heron with full wingspan fly Over the river flowing shallow ; I must have interrupted her morning sojourn As I knelt and bowed at many a turn To walk the fisherman’s walk ; No fishing pole in hand I held Except for a camera with phone To come closer to the river flowing swift And listen to the bluebells alone ; And the chipmunk who stared at attention In his stance from the fallen tree trunk proud What beautiful solitude awaits us A mere few yards from the madding crowd ; I can hear the chirping of fledgelings And the rumble of motorcycles loud I pause to kneel, to sit on haunches To breathe in the earth's green cloud ; And the flat rounds on this bank remind me Of skipping stones in the Indus in Leh So much is different and yet the same Water, air, sun and swallows hold sway My heart feels like it’s going to burst forth with memories Of lullabies filled with love from that day; And the dancing of sunlight on ripples Asks - does it take much courage to flow? Or does it take courage to stand... For the truth we've all have felt from beyond the know ; Yes, yes it does take courage to admit of tears Of all our meager holdings to let go We swim in the river of desires Forgetful of love's seeds given us to sow ; So when this world weighs you down now and then Find a river whose other shore you can't see Remember -- love's courage helps us walk And leads us to who we're destined to be... ; Yet forget not that for love to bloom life We need to master the courage to die ; But what is it -- that we are to die to and for? That is perhaps the question's cry I often wonder, and try to remember — As I watch the swallow who's learning to fly...
P.S. Thank you for reading this far, and letting me share my musings with you. May 26th marks the observance of Memorial Day Sunday in the USA. Join us on twitter at 9amET, as we discuss some (spiritual) aspects of ‘loving remembrance’. Namaste. – Kumud @AjmaniK
Towards the end of the circle of my walk, I came upon this young tree with fresh green leaves, seemingly growing almost horizontally out of the love of the soil accumulated around the tree trunks of fallen trees… #MemorialDay