Saturday, April 11, 2015

4.11.15 Remnants of the Night Sky


A restless sleep, only to find that, far over there, he had one also.

As a dear friend came after her long week and her Tai Qi class, to sit and talk and laugh and contemplate, then sleep upon my sofa, as a comfort.

Waking early, I bring the pup outside, and the sky is blanketed with its own dark cloud cover, beneath which the coming day does emerge.


Off in the remnants of night sky, the half moon lingers, decisive, in its early morning beauty.


With sleepy morning talks while nestled beneath the comforter, a bit of dog-assisted yoga to stretch awareness into the day, and waiting here for him to be home once again.


Thursday, April 9, 2015

4.9.15 From Winter to April to Spring


Always I have found dark, cold rainy days to be a source of comfort, of solace.
Somehow, the day turns you inward, to quiet and cozying in.




Even when I would venture out into the hills and ravines and the outwaters far below, through early springtime woods rifled with freezing rains the like of which we had last night, still with warm coat and boots and a racing dog by my side, the adventure was filled with some sort of stilled joy.


The deep maroon and gold and umber colors of the woods, shining in the wet morning light.  Early Birch catkins, or the first Maple florets -as perfect as any miniature bouquet, covering the quiet awakening trees.


 Today there is no crunching far below, with no one about but the tracks of wild ones from the night before, or the occasional squirrel.

 But I have been told that, could I go far into the woods,
 there I would hear the first peepers, 
flourishing in their private haven of clean spring waters, 
heralding the day, and then the night,

                 As Mallards swoop in for a rest and a meal, Herons sail silently by overhead,  inveterate Pansies lay, resilient, beneath the layer of iced snow, 
and the days here progress thoughtfully 
from winter to April to spring.




Wednesday, April 8, 2015

4.8.15 As if existence is a horse we ride, with no reins, no saddle



How good to be older, more settled and solid.

To be the recipient of so very much remarkable love and support.

Quietly talking and holding hands in the evening.
Tai Qi and the sunrise as the day begins.

Health insurance and excellent doctors 
and things called phones to hear the voice of my beloved.

People showering us with mindblowing vital gifts.

As if existence is a horse we ride, with no reins, no saddle;
and it moves and responds as we do, walking, cantering, stumbling, and making its way.

 As I stay on its back, listening so I can balance, lean forward, set back, focusing on the ride.