Author: LFSAlden

In a haze of good neighbors
and good cheer
and gladness.

Welcome, gladness.
Welcome deep green of grasses.
Time to check the lawn mower and do this properly.

White and liath and purple-cloud-striped magenta with fuchsia base.
It is not yet obligatory to return to Ordinary Time.
I will watch this beautiful sunrise first.

Thin and yellow

Sunrise clear and a bit chill
Sunrise through bare branches
I think the sun has risen before me and that was needed.

She’s white and quiet this morning,
a glance through branches of bare trees
simply a neighbor in the forest, gathering her night herbs and nodding to me as our paths cross and our days begin.

Another woman sits up quietly,
pulls her cloak about her and rises.
“I have the watch,” she says, and listens while her brother makes his ablutions.

That will be this morning’s story.

Were singing to each other!

Singing!

Do you understand?
They were singing and I heard them and the Three Queens heard them
(even though it is not summer)
and the tail of the Bear pointed to Arcturus, of course, but the arc carried through directly to the moon like a spotlight, like a silver carpet.

It was cold enough to be very clear, yet not so very cold.
I could stop and stay as long as I liked and gaze and gaze on the dancers and breathe deeply the sweetness of early spring air
and I could taste the moonlight a little.

Dark house with soft lights
Dark water invitation
Submerge, surrender,
Float… far…
Until I can hear the call
and answer in a
Dark field beneath a
Dark sky
and kneel in
Dark snow
in
Reverence
in
Deep trust.

Back to the waters,
voices around me,
I listen.
I shift.
I sleep.

Moon, sweet slim old crescent, perfect for a cold winter morning

And Morning star, tear of Isis, jewel

They hang together this morning, lit by the same sun, turning simple radiation to magic and passing it on to my eyes.

May I see beauty today.

between working too hard out of duty,
obligation,
unhealthy deadlines and self-expectation

and

running in to work because I am lonely
and in the shelter of this clearly defined space
I know that I have value
I know that I have colleagues who are kind and brilliant and passionate about their own niches within our niche.

I joked with my friend about “you know
my immature black-and-white thinking streak a mile wide” and he
laughed and nodded because he did know it well.

Well, I have such a streak
so I like bright lines.
I really am not fit to be let out into the real world.
Perhaps that’s the next lesson.

Venus by morning,
Jupiter by evening,
I listen, I listen!

The longest month

I shall
complete something
and put all the materials away
and sweep the floor clean of threads.
I will fast to cleanse my mind and body
through this dark and this deep stillness;
I will douse the fires and melt down wax
and make new candles to call new light.
But while it sets, while all is still dark
I will lift this inward veil
and face myself
quietly.

What do I want?
What do I need right now?
Is there a hope to drive this next chapter,
and if so what should I have in my backpack?
The seed catalogues have come through snow.
And faith allows me to daydream and choose
something healthy and something pretty
like strength to fulfill duty
and columbine and cinquefoil and sheep campion which will grow where they please, thank you very much
and I will light the new candles and eat cheese and tell stories to the stars.

Holy, quiet, still-in-motion
draws us to notice
the sacred fire
silver-white
of Venus
hanging
in the east
brighter than
sun, moon, snow
or so hope seems to me

I am in the presence of a thousand small gods in wild ecstasy
For one of their own gods has come to play
to fiddle for them a passion beyond music
and the trees keep the beat from the edge of the great circle
and each small god is the power of a hundred thousand flakes of snow
and none of them fall,
and none of them stop,
and none of them slow.