They were sisters of the heart, a whirlwind of ambition chasing after their curiosity. Karma and Dharma would take off after each other when their chores were done, and run down to the old bridge. The bridge was a timeless relic built before their time and it stood as a connection between Here and a place they have never been. Half way across, they would stop, lean against the side rail and look over the edge into Wonder.
Wonder was a ravine with a deep river that ran between. Wonder had a rusty old sign that could only be read if you were at the bottom. And unless you were an expert climber, the only way to see it was to jump down into the water. Karma and Dharma would stand above Wonder, thinking about what it would be like, to fall into the river and experience what only the brave could understand.
Jagged rocks lined the sides as far as eyes could see. There was a peaceful surrender in the air for anyone that took the time to dwell inside its echo. Karma and Dharma could feel its subtle qualities, and breathing this ancient wind was the reason they would make the frequent journey.
One particular evening, as the busy day chased after the sunset, Karma and Dharma rushed down to the bridge. Their hair was flying in the wind, summer dresses flowing as they brushed against the wheat filled fields, and roads kicked up into dust by their shoes. When they arrived, the catching of breath came in the calm of Wonder, pulling them in deeply, and quietly. Karma, weary from the trials of a busy day, stepped up onto the rail and opened her arms out wide. She was a Dove in the freedom of a cage opened wide. Today was her day, she felt it in every fiber of her being.
Dharma caught the glimpse of her longing, as it twinkled in her eyes. With nightfall fast approaching she Looked up at Karma and said, “If we jump into Wonder, it may take a longer time to find our way back home.”
Karma looked down at Dharma and smiled, “But if we don’t jump into wonder, how will we know what brought us here in the first place?”
~ jeffrey vionito