Sparked by Words

The Color of My Blood

If you bury your head in the ground, you’ll never glimpse the cosmos. The sounds you hear so deep in the earth are muffled and distorted by distance. Snowdrops hammer threats. The words I love you morph to I mug you. No wonder you’re terrified.

It’s natural to drop to the floor at sudden assaults. Earthquakes, landslides, fiery smoke, gunshots. We’re told to stop, drop, and roll, a dance step scarier than the junior high prom. Our heads tuck under our arms, huddling in fear as a safety strategy.

Soil pressing into your palms and the soles of your feet drags you deeper into the chasm. It takes heart muscle and cranial strength to chuck the dross and hoist the body. It resists change.

It’s even more frightening to remain in the dirt, ears stuffed with clods, hands clutching grass by the roots. The nature of fear is that it’s deaf and blind.

Raise yourself, hair by hair, toenail by toenail. Step upon the crust. Open your eyes to look further than a vulture’s flight. Cup your ears to detect vibrations. Turn slowly and stare. Be silent and listen. The universe is addressing you. The drum beat booms. Words screech. Snowfall crackles like breaking glass. Still the stars spiral.

The universe wheels and rolls around you. Be part of it, as you were at its inception. The darker the sky, the more you see. The quieter your voice, the more you hear.

This planet is too tiny to divide into barbed parcels. Hold hands with the stranger and work together. It doesn’t have to be a wall. It could be a bridge. What you build will shelter your grandchildren.

The world is not flat. You have to muster courage and that starts with pulling your head out of the ground.

The cosmos courses through all of us. By genetic heritage we are 99.9 percent alike. The color of my blood is the same as yours.



Just a Thought 63


Tortoise image courtesy Commons Wikimedia



Comments on: "The Color of My Blood" (27)

  1. puts me in mind of the Abhidharma account of the beginning of physical sentient life: at the beginning of a cycle of a universe, beings are born of light and live for 80,000 years; over (long) time they very gradually notice, and acquire a taste for, physicality – the very crust of the universe; the more they indulge this taste the more they find ways of ‘having’ it and the more they acquire incarnations that are able to perceive and sense matter; as their incarnations become more physical, their life span decreases, used up in ingesting matter; through time matter is mapped, owned, exploited and fought over, beings become more and more ‘physical’ in their existence and lose the once-rarified and unbounded existence they once had; eventually they identify as the matter they crave; this decline will continue until beings’ life span is 10 years and the world is conflagration; the one hope – as you describe and encourage – is cultivation of the spiritual

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you for a detailed rendering of this story – I wasn’t not familiar with it, but I do believe we’re all connected more than many imagine. A recognition of God within each of us.


  2. Vivid imagery. But not heard by those with their heads already buried in the ground I fear.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. That’s a good message that seems to be lost more and more often. Sigh.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Wow, 99.9% the same. And we still focus on that 0.1% and blow it out of all proportion.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Wonderfully written story and too often true.
    I feel that quotient your last sentence says it all:
    ” The cosmos courses through all of us. By genetic heritage we are 99.9 percent alike. The color of my blood is the same as yours. ”


    Liked by 1 person

  6. Jenna Barwin said:

    Well said. You inspire me.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. The Earth indeed grounds us (I know, bad pun), but mankind yearns for the stars!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. You’re right, we must raise ourselves – the only way to restore our cosmic perspective. The earth will continue to spin, the stars will continue to shine….gives us something to hold on to. Hope! Thank you, Sharon, for this piece.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. so well said – even for me, who’s hands get sweaty at the thought of blood…


  10. So many truths and inspirations in this one, Shari. I’ve already read it twice and I think I’ll read it again to fully understand each of its layers. ‘Be silent and listen’ if only more people would do exactly that instead of trumpeting (pun totally intended! 😉) their hate into this world…


    • There’s a passage in the Bible where Elijah is seeking God so he goes to a mountain to wait for Him. There he survives a violent wind, an earthquake, and a fire, but God was not in them. Finally Elijah hears God in “the still, small voice.” I’ve thought of this passage often as I’m impetuous and try – and usually fail – to control my temper and my knee-jerk reactions.

      Yeah, Trump – hopelessly hotheaded bleating.

      Liked by 2 people

  11. Had to reread because the first time your imagery left me holding my breath. WOWZA that is some “just a thought”. I’m actually speechless and as you know, that doesn’t happen often.


  12. Writing is good, anxiety not so much.

    Parts of the world are in “flux” which is good – major change always creates chaos, pain, disequilibrium in the short run. Since we are already in eternity what’s happening is an extremely short run!


  13. Such a lovely thought and beautifully expressed!


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