Category: Morning Meander

The days are acting like February,
Wordless,
And my heart is focused on interpreting this rightly.

My mind can go to “lonely” so easily in the emptiness.

Yet.

Yet.

Let it be stillness,
Silence.

Space does not call for filling, but for being.

Why did you affect me so?

It’s not because you needed to exert dominance over a middle-aged woman from Plainfield.

I already know that you consider my age a lesser status.

I already know that you consider my gender a lesser being.

I already know that you consider my culture degenerate.

Oh! and the way you startled when I mentioned my wife! That was precious. You explained that marriage was so banal… yet you kept bringing up heteronormativity.

I already know what you are.

I think, really, that I’m pissed because you apologized beforehand
– demonstrating that you knew your words were not welcome –
(did you even know that they were unsolicited? or do you walk through this world imagining that everything is open to your correction?)
and then did not hold back from doing that which was worthy of apology…
… after three months of explaining the superiority of your theology and philosophy.

I do not think less of you, I already know what you are.

But I’m rather disappointed in your god.

They sang to me,
a wriggling song about morning and waiting for sunrise
and about going out into the fresh snow.

Is it a good morning for singing? I ask them.

They stop short and stare at me.

Isn’t every morning?

What a strange and wondrous thing, Morning.

Waking to little feet, little nose –
Waking to scented candles –
Waking to small house sounds –

I do like being the first one up,
But second up is pretty nice, too.

Coffee’s ready.

Sgiob and I walked behind the house in the unblemished snow –
very crunchy, very good for snow dog angels –
and then out into the circle.

It’s very scrubby out there and less circular than
Potentially Circular
and that’s all right.

The day itself should be full of Potential
and hot coffee
and knitting.

Two kids,
Two dogs,
Our hearts,
and some sparkly angels.

The sky right now is deeply, evenly overcast, but there’s moonlight – so the light is evenly diffused and the whole sky glows gently.

I think I’m going to let the blog rest for a week or so during the darkest days in order for my spirit to do the same.

They did it!

It has been days and days (weeks) since I had the oomph to take a walk.

The dogs took matters into their own hands (paws) and began a campaign of convincing Mamaidh to take them walking.

they were right, it was beautiful!
Arcturus shone redly on one side, and a star I did not know by name on the other, but it shone near the hill of my horizon.

I am combing a beautiful star map and wondering could it have been Alhena?

Lovely to meet you, Alhena. These are Sgiob and Max. I’m Sparrow. Thank you for your beauty.

Hello, friends. The dark days are slowing me down, and I know that’s just the natural cycle of things. To help us get through, I have put up another collection of poetry on Kindle. I hope you can draw comfort or courage or a smile from it.

A certain spot in the woods obscures itself for over half the year;
I can see it from my front step,
from my yard,
from my meadow,
from the place where a deck could be in the future.

I plan to spend coffee time on that deck,
breathing the forest air deeply
and trying not to think about mosquitoes
and bundling up warmly to brush away snow and sit,
with my coffee – not strong, hazelnut syrup, double cream –
for as long as I please.

I will look at that spot in the woods and nod to it and lift my coffee cup and listen to it and talk to it and exchange the news of the world.

This tangle of hemlock-on-hemlock obscures itself by dark needle and distance and, on a good mist-rising morning, by holding itself back behind the beaver pond, so that the mist occludes it.

But then the snow falls

and every needle stands out sharp and clear as crystal

The mild and hidden goddess, revealed as shining power for a moment before she shrouds herself again and walks among the Tree People.

I couldn’t post yesterday, couldn’t tell why, got on with my busy day until I saw poinsettias, red and green with golden ribbons, cream and green with golden ribbons.

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.

Today, the fifth, on the other hand (though I did not use the first hand, it was busy holding coffee), seems to be about the Penguin Toy.

How close can a little dog get to the big dog’s Penguin Toy without causing a ruckus?

Apparently, it’s all about the eyes. If he does not look directly at the Penguin Toy, he can even snuggle it…

Stay tuned!

My coffee was steaming hot – too hot
As I poured it

So I stepped outside into the snowfall
and let the snow fall
into it,

Each tiny perfect crystal cooling.

Now I have Snow Coffee and I am weeping with gratitude for this life.

Look!
Look!
Look!

Feel it on my face,
my hands,
my hair,
your fur,
your snoot,

Here it is!!!

They are so very patient with me, good doggers.

I confess to walking very little lately, a sign that the body and mind and spirit are vulnerable.

So they call me, every day, to come out “just a little, a Mhamaidh! It’s so lovely! We will stay near!”

They are so very beautifully patient.
Today, they showed me six different places that are good for making snow-dog-angels
and thus coaxed me further than I have walked in a fortnight.

Doggers know best.