Secret Ones in Hidden Spaces

On the wonderment of gentleness

All human beings were given the ability to care and a mind capable of understanding that all living things need it.

A clock ticks with barely a sound but still moves time from whispers Questions can only be unwound if voices are patient transistors

Hold my hand and don’t let go Help me embrace the road ahead

Speak softly now

A potter will steadily shape a bowl to fill it with a nourishing meal if pressure doesn’t take its toll breaking life’s delicate wheel

Come with me on this blue river flow Hold my gaze forever in sunset red

Touch my hand

If a beautiful word is sharply yelled will it carry the same meaning? If a nameless rose is sweetly smelled will thorns still stick my wilted being?

Clear the rocks slowly one at a time Darkness always dissolves into light

Swim with me

A needle can’t be threaded with force when the eye must work with the hand A flock of birds will stay on course if wings flap mellow like Ferdinand

Add sugar to the lemon and lime The wind will carry our flight

Just dream

A star disappears when you look at it Troxler will hide our deepest desire Fade into the story when the sky is lit The melody is lost if notes are on fire

In sun-crossed light the moon will keep where imagination’s heart will dwell

Close your eyes

Hold my hope gently so it doesn’t break I’m as strong as roots, but I still need you Breathe life into my body while I’m awake In your hands is where the firefly flew

Guide me to the places that sleep Time is an endless wishing well

Love lives

— KALM ☁️

Life thrives everywhere. From the bumbling human to the dainty spider, creatures carry on with their business in plain sight. But most of this living goes unnoticed. I had the pleasure of this reminder a few days ago.

But first, a confession. . .

I’m an insect rescuer. It began when I was a young child. I’m not sure why. I’ve never intentionally killed an insect. I’m sure there have been hundreds of accidents, though. Sometimes they can be a big problem, but a lot of times they aren’t. A misplaced wanderer will always find a friend in me. My size comparatively shouldn’t give me permission to disregard worlds beyond my understanding. I’m also a hypocrite because simply existing comes with responsibilities I can’t always meet and many of which are not chosen but endured. Everything I do affects everything else while nature’s great cycle pedals on. Compassion is the oil in our revolving wheel. Without it, all will grind to a halt.

Right after I finished cooking dinner the other night, I noticed a little movement by the dishwasher. To my surprise, in between the wall and the dishwasher was a very plump grasshopper. My daughter and son are much more efficient bug catchers than I am. It seems they have inherited my penchant for crawlies and animals of all sizes. Since I had just made dinner, I told them to leave it to me. I expected it to be a fight to the. . . well, not death. . . but until I was victorious.

Surprisingly, I caught the sucker in no time. It hopped right onto my waiting cardboard and I trapped it with the paper fan my daughter had made. Voila! Another life was saved. I was quite pleased with myself and ran it outside choosing a shady spot under a tree to watch it happily regain its freedom.

Did you know that grasshoppers can fly? I didn’t. I just thought they could hop really far. When the grasshopper realized it was outdoors, it took off in a great flight swooping passed us in a big arc and headed straight toward the open door again. Suddenly, out of absolutely nowhere, a blue bird wooshed down in the same arc the grasshopper took and snatched it right out of thin air. Without missing a beat, it flew back to the tree tops with the grasshopper firmly clasped in its beak.

The look on my daughter’s face was priceless. In saving the gentle insect, I also assured its untimely demise. That got me thinking. Had my lifetime of bug saving been in vain? After all, most little creatures have tiny life spans to match (from our perspective). If they don’t go one way, it’ll soon be another. Maybe I should give up this ridiculousness of caring. But then I realized. . .

I didn’t save the grasshopper. The grasshopper saved the bird.

Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty. — Albert Einstein

If gentle had a sound, I think it would sound like Ludovico Einaudi’s Nuvole Bianche. Don’t you think so?