Category: Morning Meander

The dogs and I are delighted to present a new book of dog-walking poetry. Won’t you walk along with us from Ostara to Beltane?

The sap is running, friends, and I’m editing the poetry collection which walks to Beltane. Thank you all for encouragement, thank you, dogs, for the good company.

It’s fool’s spring, I know that,
Yet I will be joyful in it.

Now begins the Great Fluffening, when the old is shed to make way for the new and our house is covered in a layer of dog fluff…

There’s dawn-light now when we waken,
and on an overcast, heavy day in February I can see no difference between dawn-light and dawn,

the sun might be there,
or it might not,
and all is pearl-grey with bare black branches.

There is a peace, and I wish it into my bones.

So grateful to the Universe for you – strong, tough, sassy Emily.

You paused; and kept going.

All the way to the cul-de-sac today,
and muscles much better,
breathing much better,
coming back up above some baseline level.

There were snow and rain at the same time,

and plenty of places to dig,

so that’s all right.

I was still ruminating about long term plans.
Where could I be, spiritually and professionally, in a year?
Two years?
Five?

Sgiobalta woke me gently this morning and told me that she had a plan all figured out. What is it, sweetheart? I asked.

Mamaidh, let’s have a beautiful day.

They did it!

Those good dogs took me further this morning than I have gone all winter so far.
Thank you, good dogs!

I told them rhymes of praise and encouragement.
Perhaps a bard of long experience could do better,

It’s a beginning.

More dreams than usual,
vivid ones.
Perhaps it’s time to write them down.

My dear one asked me about the future
and I realized that I have not looked beyond next summer
with any sort of deliberate care,
With the exception that when I’m seventy I would like to carry the ghost of Trina Schart Hyman in case there is more work she would like to do.

This is the work of this season:
What seeds lie under the snow?
Plant them with care this year,
Broadcasting will not do.

Plant with care.

I dreamed in the wee hours
of a troll
– long-limbed, preternaturally slender, covered in long hair, with two glowing spots –
under a bridge.

(the exit 10 bridge on Route 89)

And suddenly I was afraid and perceived him as several, and human, and terrifying in that way.

My voice of reason reminded me of two very important things:

First, how to defend myself: when one is inside and in control of a ton and a half of both armor and battering ram, there are ways; then get on the highway South because Exit 9 is well populated.

Second, that the danger I perceived was my own projection. If I stopped and really looked, it was not a scary gang. In truth, it was just a troll signaling for help, a cosmic neighbor crash-landed and panicking.

First aid for blue leaking fluids is simply first aid, and I called state police to help with towing and helping him get checked for a concussion.

Friends, I’m delighted to announce that the meditation manual is available which accompanies the days from Imbolc (tonight or tomorrow or next week, depending on your calendar; or in August, depending on your hemisphere) to Ostara (the spring equinox).

This time of the year is difficult for me, and I imagine it is for many. Will you join me on our meditations and walks and imaginings? Our Morning Meanders are available through Kindle.

The stars last night –
the clearest,
the most,
the sparkliest,
the brightest,
the most colorful I have ever seen.

Crazy what happens when I put my glasses on.