February 27th, 2008

daffodils

This Spring -






I wake this morning and think of this poem by James Wright.   This is the most beautiful spring.  The blossoms of white, pink, and yellow are abundant and the scents a delight.   The moon is again a morning beacon in the sky.





A Blessing

- James Wright


Just off the Highway to Rochester, Minnesota
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.


--From Above the River
©Farrar, Straus, Giroux, and The University Press of New England

alexander calder

update on Kara -

The feeding tube is out, and she is off morphine and on Tylenol.   She may be able to come home Friday, or else Monday.   I don't know what happened to Saturday and Sunday, but that there is now a date of homecoming is exciting.   Elaine snuck Lulu, their little dog into the hospital, so that was a special treat.  Kara is still not up for visitors, but a little dog is certainly not in the category of a visitor, but instead is a joyful wiggle of appreciation, love, and vibrant tail-wagging energy.   Prayers and visualizations are still needed, but she was able to digest a little homemade chicken broth, so that is a huge step forward.  

I feel a great place of relief.  I look up at the moon, that half circle of light and know that life is meant to contain both the light and the dark, and the dark sets the lights off so beautifully, and it is also lovely to see a brightening sky.   Soon there will be pink in the sky and Kara's cheeks.

Think pink!!
Book Cover

Doors of happiness -



"When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one
which has been opened for us."

-Helen Keller


 

I read this and am reminded of trying to find the little envelope on the social network Connection Well that opens my mail.  I was looking everywhere and then I saw it.  I imagine there are little envelopes floating all about like the pollen that has now coated my car in yellow, little envelopes that as we open, open cells to smile.


 

Enjoy this spring day, even if the ground is still white with snow.  I hear the cardinals will be mating soon.


For each of us, there are new doors to trundle, dance, waltz, polka, and prance up to, and through.  

 


Do!




 


         
garden at green gulch

Morning Poem -



Each morning of this winter, I have come to my desk and as the day gets light, a plume of smoke arches from a home across the way.  I looked for it this morning and my eye was caught on a slightly lower arch, a bower of white.  Thus, my poem for today.


 

Spring

 

No smoke this morning across the way,

only an arch of blossoms,

liquid,

in the stillness,

of their spray.  


california poppy

the first poppy of spring

I saw my first California poppy of the new year today.  I decided I had to walk down to the beach at Tennessee Valley.  It still requires taking off one's shoes and wading to get to the sand, but the water is warm, and the tide was so low, I could see the whole world, and peer easily through the hole in the rock.   I had the sensation of watching the ocean be like ice cream and lick the sky.  I know that we usually lick ice cream, but why can't it, too, reach out with a creamy tongue and taste.

I saw one lizard, two egrets, ducks, coots, and gulls.  

Now, I'm back at the computer thinking I don't like doing my taxes and that is not a proper attitude after such a beautiful reward, and my body is not seeming to respond to the joy of going through tax stuff.  What can I say?  I don't like taxes, Sam I am, and the date with the accountant approaches on heavy, dark and foreboding feet. 

"Just do it," I say, and my body, like a two year old, screams, "No, no, no."    I am a baby today, and wearing an unappealing pout, and so, it is.

Perhaps I need a snack, a walnut or two, an apple slice, a piece of pear.

Maybe procrastination can rule just a little bit longer, while I wiggle myself into a more receptive to taxes sort of mood.

Around and around I go, like a dog or cat looking for a place to snooze, and snoozing is not on my agenda today.

Focus, I say.  Focus.  Close the blinds.  Don't look out on the exuberant dance lighting the out-of-doors.