March 21, 2025

Sat by the Green River for a half hour today.  It was that green brown color and it was rushing through.  The dam was up and the water was high.  Today starts the rebuilding of the growth.  The woods void of any real color variation will soon begin to show a pop up green.  To Life.



 

Tonight we had a small potluck with poets.  We created a sacred circle, we shared beautiful poems and other writings, we burnt what we wished to remove from our lives and planted new seeds.   A new beginning on this first full day of Spring.


I did not use my camera today.  I wish I had brought it.  I forget how wonderful the shapes, colors and textures are in rituals.  My phone does not do any of it justice.  

The Sun This March

                    Wallace Stevens 


The exceeding brightness of this early sun
Makes me conceive how dark I have become,

And re-illumines things that used to turn
To gold in broadest blue, and be a part

Of a turning spirit in an earlier self.
That, too, returns from out the winter’s air,

Like an hallucination come to daze
The corner of the eye. Our element,

Cold is our element and winter’s air
Brings voices as of lions coming down.

Oh! Rabbi, rabbi, fend my soul for me

And true savant of this dark nature be.



 

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