Life is like a flowing river. But is the river rapid or slow? Is there an undercurrent or not? Does it finally get to empty itself on the sea or wanderingly moves about before finally drying out? Even I don't know but it is good to flow!
I recently built a terrarium. A mini garden in a glass bowl. I put a tiny ceramic hut in between at the end of the mossy path. After the initial euphoria I sat down in the evening as the light from the bulb which was placed almost perpendicular above the terrarium gave the mini garden a resplendent mellow glow. It looked as if the snake plant, cactus, patharchatta or miracle leaf plant, the pine fig all were bathing in divinity. Though I did not breathe life into the plants and just rearranged and created a new living space for them, I felt a seraphic presence. I longed to be in the solitary hut amidst the cradle of nature. I desired to embrace the snake plant and lie down on the moss and feel the earth.
This is how it feels to be like God?
