Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Awesome August 2014 Number Five

I like to write, and I like words. I search out words in an almost obsessive manner, and will use spell check routinely to assure I am not going to wince at glaring errors in spelling and punctuation once I have clicked on the orange :publish: box in the upper right hand corner of this page. 

On Sunday, I was composing my Sunday Sonnet and the word exultation was the expression of emotion I wanted to convey. I had spelled it exaltation, and this just did not look right. I ran spell check, and there was no tell-tale yellow box around the word, which in turn made me curious. is bookmarked on my laptop, my source for assistance on a daily basis in my writing. I searched for the defintion of exaltation and this was the result:

Definitions of exaltation:
  • noun:   a flock of larks (especially a flock of larks in flight overhead)
  • noun:   the location of a planet in the zodiac at which it is believed to exert its maximum influence
  • noun:   the elevation of a person (as to the status of a god)
  • noun:   a state of being carried away by overwhelming emotion
I then repeated the search for exultation and this was the result:

Definitions of exultation:
  • noun:   the utterance of sounds expressing great joy
  • noun:   a feeling of extreme joy
Our language is so beautiful, and full of serendipity. 

An exaltation of larks. In my mind I could see a sweeping wave of larks, floating up into the sky, reaching higher and higher, borne aloft on the air currents, their wings gracefully waving in concert, a moment of unsurpassed joy. That moment when the soul sings in silence, and the spirit is boundless. A slice of infinity inserted into life, to help us know the divine, and rise above the mundane. 

Lift your face to the sky. Pause, for a few seconds, and breathe. Close your eyes, smell the air, taste the sun, see the energy of life as it thrums through your veins. This moment is fleeting and eternal. It is all that has ever been, and the promise of what is yet to be. Life is stone and vapor, a moment in eternity that knows no beginning or ending. That which is so improbable that makes all things possible. 

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