Wednesday, June 5, 2019

You grow


Nicole Page-Smith





For Ducky





You grow






Stepping on the floor is like a cushioned cloud surface. You would be wondering with cushioned feet if clouds do reside underneath your feet or are somehow attached to your ankles with strappy sandals.

Riding a cloud you manage to find your way towards the Bernini sculpture of The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa. 













Sun is pouring through the windows. Church light in windows, Bernini's white marble floats along as if in a cloud. Angels decorate the ceiling and pierce you with a golden arrow. The piercing of ecstasy and ecstatic states would take you to the pain of God's love like the piercing of cupids arrow. Clouds of ecstasy represent the shining rays and a Saint's love. Birds tend to tweet in your branches. 











Ascension light travels through the windows of the churchyard and greets you like the birds on a new day's dawn. Silent are the colours of ascension but as loud as the birds. Birds pass through your forest with the sunlight through the clouds and trees. Sometimes the moody skies forecast the mood of the gods. The light through trees blowing in the wind dapples down to the forest floor. Shadows and light and, the shadow of birds flying overhead take your gaze upward. You feel all church architecture must talk of ascension and you spiral your ideas up the churchyard steeple. Often late afternoon sun through stain glass windows shines with coloured ascension and light. You may notice the shimmering of light on birds and their feathered plumage tells you of their position in the forest. Birds are really in the forest for themselves and to alert other animals of the dangers ahead. Twittering away in resplendent joy after the rain through sound you are taken back to the churchyard and angelic choirs with the sound of organs. Organs and churchyard music have you soar higher with the birds. Flying with angels and birds as though somehow interlinked you glimmer in the light. Light hits your face.












Flying through the forest as if on bird's wing, the wings of birds have you ascending. Flying down to the forest floor to pick up some crumbs left by your lunch you become angel and walking, becoming tree. Rooted in the forest you then think of ascension and your upper leaves are tickled with new growth and shoots. You grow.