A Note for Spring
Oh, I remember you. Spring. The wind – great and brassy, sweeping the sky and the earth like a broom made of light. The birds, becoming nothing so much as hearts with wings, so full they become with you.
It is still cold, but you are there beneath and above it, in the thunderstorm over the mountain, a cliff in the sky made of dark clouds pressing against the blue midday. In the sudden revelation of sunlight on the living green needles of the pine trees and the rust colored needs beneath them, melting into earth. The sun sets behind the first blooming trees, their petals rose-colored in the light and lavender in shadow, dusky and rich.
I remember you. The smell and the light and the singing. I remember, the Kore rising, the promise. How even in the horror and the mess and the rock and the tumble of human hearts breaking, that you can make such promises. I wreck myself wondering how.
The room is full of light, candle and sun. I burn white copal for you. I make prayers and ask for things only spring can give. Newness, hearts as light as smoke and rain like diamonds, hope.
Perfectly captured the feeling of Spring. Especially early spring. I experience this same sort of ‘poetry in motion’ this time of year. The Earth buzzing and vibrating, like an enormous flower beginning to unfurl.
Thank you for your post.