I Am Starting a New Day

  • Added:
    Sep 23, 2012
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All night long, you were flying around the Earth, completely free, under the wing of your guardian angel. Protected and happy you watched the world from heavenly heights and it seemed beautiful and unique to you. Joyfully excited and cheerful you sang as if you were in a trance: What a beautiful transformation, what a beautiful transformation. And everything is in its place and everybody is here. I am flying, flying all night long. In my dreams.

It`s morning, wake up, wake up and start over, completely free. Every morning I can hear birds singing under my window. Birds are singing in my head, they are communicating, quarreling, out singing, outtalking, they are flying around the house and they are flying over the garden while I am typing on my keyboard. I can hear them in my heart, they are happy, excited, they are coming from my subconsciousness, from the part of my soul which is detached from my mind that I recognize in solitude, when the echo of my thoughts and of birds` chirping is equalized and becomes simple, vibrant music which comes in soft bursts like a mild tide and fills the space and the atmosphere around me.

Sounds are melting into harmony and balance of black and white, day and night, beautiful and ugly, evilness transforms into goodness, weakness transforms into power. The desire for something sublime and pure overcomes the bareness of knowledge. The melody created by transforming and by joining birds` chirping around the house with thoughts in my head makes thrilling music which fulfills the soul and radiates emotional yearning for endless joy. Creating means happiness.

Very rarely when insomnia strikes me, I accept the dawn like a humble ascetic who waits in a line for a morning prayer and for bowing in front of Blessed Virgin`s icon. During the recent years I have been waiting for the dawn wide awake. I have experienced that feeling of happiness since my early youth. And when I accidently oversleep it, and when a quiet sleep gives my body and soul rest; I feel strange and I look forward to evening and to falling asleep in order to get up early again tomorrow.

At dawn thoughts are more beautiful, body is more refreshed and no matter how the day will turn out we believe that it will be nice and that it will bring that absolutely necessary joy because of which we live our everyday lives. Reality rarely gives answers to our dreams. Questions pile up as if they are in the womb of an unawakened volcano. I cover them with a silk grass made of emotions and I tuckle them in with memories` velvet moss, believing that the answer will show up in my next dream. I start a new day, encouraged by this belief.

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