I feel solar-powered. The sun rose today uncloaked by cloud or fog.
I, too, rose with spring freshness, and meditated, watered plants inside and out, and opened doors and windows.
Energy's swirl feels daring today.
I resonate to this poem by Jane Hirshfield:
The Supple Deer
The quiet opening
between fence strands
perhaps eighteen inches.
Antlers to hind hooves,
four feet off the ground,
the deer poured through.
No tuft of the coarse white belly hair left behind.
I don't know how a stag turns
into a stream, an arc of water.
I have never felt such accurate envy.
Not of the deer:
To be that porous, to have such largeness pass through me.
- Jane Hirshfield