God is round and everything created inherits that propensity. Even conflict is cyclical, gravity pulls, planets resist, the motions are orbits. Seasons are created, life and expectations of things that have come before.
My seasons resolve around my passions. The closer I get to my fiery core, the brighter my sky, greener my grass the fuller my bounty. Wildlife flourishes, I have plans for Friday night, etc. Then the season of forgetfulness comes upon me.
I start to drift further from Sol. Days grow shorter, nights colder, too cold to speak. Constellations like Aphrodite drift by without so much as a whisper from me.
But, stars do change and I remind myself of the god I once was. A beauty lost until I find it again in myself. Memory brings the sun round. Closer, I align myself with truths I produce like blossoms. Like attracts and beauty is compounded. I remember that work toward my star is near zero effort and I feel warm.
My own personal gravity serves me well.
Photo: Juggler in Wash DC in front of Gallery Place Chinatown Metro station taken with iPhone3Gs, Hipstamatic app (Chunky, Blanko Noir)
