Aglow

The trees are aglow.
Light dances off their boughs,
In more directions than I can know.

A few ripples enter my eyes,
And resonate with the rhythm of life.
In such awareness is the ego’s brief demise.

I was looking at some trees in the distance, while walking home after a morning run. But then my sense of looking seemed to shift. Wasn't I simply receiving light reflected by the trees? And weren't the trees scattering light in all directions?

The trees seemed to be basking in the glow of life. Imagine waves of light spreading out from those intricate branches. Imagine the vibrant leaves, their pattern of veins, the multitude of ways in which one could observe these monumental beings.

A portion of that light reached my eyes, not directly seen, but translated by my mind into a vision of beauty. I could still feel my heart beating vigorously from the run. That rhythm and the glow of the trees seemed to superimpose; humming in resonance to evoke an overwhelming sense of being alive.
 
 

_{Photo from www.freepik.com}