This season now halfway to midSummer
is faster and more full each day.
Irises voluptuously luxuriate
brilliant in lavenders and rich blued purples
only the lips can see
and the eyes taste.
Today
the mock orange bloomed
and lilacs were full
on Mother's Day
as memory always wants them to.
Already the sun is strong enough to wilt the grass
even though before this week
there was days of overabundance
of rain.
Give thanks for the students and others
who raise their voices
and lift our hearts
and inspire action.
Give thanks for the birds
who sing at dawn
and the crickets and frogs
who sing at night.
Give thanks for our strength and our tears,
practiced repetition
inspired renewal
working in the garden.
Give thanks for community
dreams and vision
propelling forward and back
grounded.
Killing caterpillars is a constant activity
now
that we didn't think about then
but neither then
could we have imagined the daily unfolding
of this beautiful landscape.
Though we have lived it many years,
each May is a miracle.
Give thanks for this land,
spongy moth caterpillars and all the larva included,
but especially for the flowers
and the gentle breeze of transformation.
Notes and pics and memory from ritual:
of flowers and ribbons
and eggs and holes and breaking
or not breaking
and erecting the Maypole
never danced except by the wind
and now overdue
to be taken down.
working together as a family
simple and relaxed
until that day
upheaval and holding space
breathing in the clean air
smelling it, tasting it
call back boundaries
in loving memory of a beautiful friend
and then the phone call
of stopping and changing
the calls and the accident
freaking out and rescue
the caring heart
the soothing voice
saying yes
the ungrounding
smokey fire of flowers
backwards memory time
milkshake and humor
comfort and home
last of the sweets
steady rain and dampness
puddles of water
the greyness
of the atmosphere
the brownness
of all the food.
& the calming shatter.
empty and letting go
holding conscience
a heaviness
of prayer
upside down of this last year
the quietness of release
passed thru before ritual.
Kombucha tastings,
help yourself,
gathering solemnly
without welcoming hubbub
the apparent opposite of carefreeness
so often associated with Beltane
was full and healing
and whole
affliction and sweetness
welcoming all
the directions
unable to set intention
to just put one foot
in front of the other
and allow agility of focus.
for each
of the Kindreds
each with a little more
flowers & herbs
rice krispies
and chocolate matzah
it's ok to cry
high up
may we be protected
the unwound Maypole
the open heart
trying to facilitate
whatever we can
in the car in the rain
and stomping in place
through adrenaline
gentle voice calming
and smoke
with baskets
tired
spiraling back through smoke
how we are around
how we interconnect
and hold each other
backwards and forwards
the Spring expanding
the flowering
to acknowledge
the daily blooming
when the blanket
of weather
or panic
occludes wonder.
of color
of festive frolic
we are present
gently
focused
in the smoke
missing the merry
family rituals
full of merry
counsel and guidance
 |
| our omens |
of our ancestors
telling us?
the sounds of the wind
and the winds of change
communicating ecstasy
Os or mouth,
mouth is the chieftain of all speech
from this time last year
what will we harvest next year?
can we connect to the roots and seeds
and also the fruits and flowers,
can we accept
whatever we get.
an upside down mirror
or a True Mirror®
of ourselves?
what does that show us of our humanity,
don't look away
at the others
we are all community.
nature alive.
danced or not danced
given and received
are leafed
did that happen
when I have been here
and watching
all these days?
till afternoon
the opening
expands
