Things are not always as they appear.
Like dried and decaying leaves, life has its moments. Times when the heart hibernates in its own pain, drawing into itself, unaware that within the dismal decay of circumstance, beauty and life still abound. Beneath the surface of winter sleep, where the heart has grown cold from the bitterness of life, there is kept a joy unnoticed, awaiting its moment to show itself, to emerge again into the warmth of a new season … where the delightful colors of hope and joy take wing.
Ladybug-Lady Illusion, releases a foul smelling blood from its legs, as it pretends to be dead when threatened. When the time of trial has ended, it uncurls its legs and busily carries on with the things in life that concern it.The smell and sight of death, only an illusion. So often when the trials of life cover as a shroud, we become consumed by our own feelings.
The ladybug encourages me, in that no matter how bleak life’s circumstances can be at times, my feelings are merely illusional, as beneath it all, there always awaits new joy and life, hidden until their proper time. To know they are there is a comfort. To remember they exist when life shows me otherwise, is a gift.
I see the ladybug and my heart smiles because it knows.
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