THE PUDDLE

The storm had been a wild one.   The wind whipped every person, plant and animal that it’s forceful tendrils could reach.   It had raged directly overhead, explosive cracks of thunder following right on the heels of the spectacular lightening.  The wind-driven rain soaked everything.  Sheets of water pounded the parched ground, creating rivers of mud.  In the street, the drains had backed up and the pavement was a shallow churning river.

Finally, it had subsided.  The water drained away until just a few puddles dotted the pavement of the road.  The sun shone brightly, seemingly triumphantly, as if to tell the clouds that their efforts had been in vain.  In defiance, a few puffy clouds marched across the sapphire sky.

I sat upon the steps of the porch, watching my kitties as they enjoyed their freedom having been cooped up in the storm.  Shadow dashed across the lawn in that sidewinder lope that cats sometimes have when they are playing.  Echo chased after him and he batted at her with one paw.  I tilted my head back, raising my face in supplication to the sun.  My lids closed.  All I could see was the rosy sunset glow of the inside of my eyelids.  Perfect, languorous relaxation spread through my body.  I could have stayed frozen like that for eternity.

My eyes opened just in time to see a slight breeze ripple the top of the puddle in the street in front of the porch.  Then it calmed again and became a mirror for the world around it.  Another breeze and it was set into motion, ripples driving across its surface.  Then calm and the mirror returned.

Shadow, hot and thirsty from his play, trotted over to the puddle and lapped with fervor.  Once again, the surface of the puddle undulated, then returned to it’s placid state.  Shadow trotted off to find a shady place to nap.  A small leaf floated downward, landing with nature’s grace upon the glassy surface.  It toured around the temporary lake, stopping to park itself on the far shore.  A car came down the street, bursting through the tiny pool, splashing water asunder.  The puddle returned to mirror perfection.  A sparrow swooped down, landed some inches away, hopped over and bent down for a drink, its tail perking in the air behind it.  It stopped for a moment to preen before flying off to its daily business.

I don’t know whether it was the clearing air after the storm, whether it was the golden sun warming the tension out of my body, whether it was just the time and place for God to whisper sweet secrets in my ear, but I thought that I could never learn so much as from that puddle.

Born in the chaotic frenzy of a storm, it placidly mirrored the heavens until disturbed by some creature or thing.  Once the disturbance passed, it resumed its calm.  It quenched the thirst of the creatures that came to it.  It sparkled like diamonds, reflecting light everywhere.  It buoyed up at least one smaller traveler until it could find a resting place.  Had I bent over it, it would have shown me my countenance, perhaps the Soul-fire in my eyes.  It parted effortlessly allowing the impatient exuberance of life in a hurry.  Quietly it sat until it had something to offer and never did it coerce its visitors.  All the while, gradually, slowly, it evaporated and became part of the air itself, God’s servant, to return again one day as simple water in a puddle, in complete service and surrender to all that is.