Birch Island Books

PEEPERS!!

Dear You-all,
for you are super-plural,

There is no one I would rather be on this lifeboat with.

Grace filled the coffee maker last night and put it on the timer,
a tiny act, and
my senses filled with her care and nurturance as I came downstairs.

Mist rose over the beaver bog as we walked
– not too far, I had put on the wrong shoes.
With coffee in hand, I bound my homework to my opening breaths:

“I let go of what does not serve my values now.
Be free, energies, to return to the Great Mother;
Be free to flow, transform, and do your many works elsewhere.”

Breathe in peace.
Breathe out love.

The WIND!
The WIND!
The WIND!

Is in our EARS!
Our EARS!
Our EARS!

And in our FURS!
Our FURS!
Our FURS!

And in our NOSES!!!!

It brings the NEWS!
The NEWS!
The NEWS!

Of all the DOGS!
The DOGS!
The DOGS!

And all the RAINS!
The RAINS!
The RAINS!

That splash our TOESES!

Clothes on the line,
covered in snow.

A mystery clipped me on the brain stem today and walking was not a chore to be avoided,
I went, and quickly, and dogs bounded joyfully, and we walked further than I thought we would because there were brand new smells down at the bag-end, with new road-grading fill and rocks had been moved which turned up old leaves.

Old leaves for goodness sake.
It was wonderful.

Frost which melts.
Sunshine which touches thin and bony fingers.
The forces are poised,
not yet agent,
waiting. For something.

I had a seeing this morning,
a knowing,
that many, many gods are nothing like human
with thought, emotion, motivation.

That had been a little naive of me.

When snow falls yesterday night
and then melts a little yesterday
when merry, running paws churn it up
into shapes and valleys and hills
and places where the bouncy ball might have been
but wasn’t
and then last night
it freezes hard
and those shapes are made crisp,
then this morning we find
the best scritching snow
for snow baths.

Puns, broadcasts, classes,
rearrangements of furniture
and filing cabinets,

We are all home,
two adult kids,
two Mamas,
and the happiest two shepherd dogs ever –

The flock is all together again!

The sun drew me out,
not gold this sunrise,
but lemon – sharp, sweet, bright, bright, bright.

We even ran a little bit
in the sweet, fresh, north-scented air.

Just beautiful.
Thank you, gods and guides and guardians, for this day.

My gratitude gift this morning is to return again to the lesson
in how to resist making myself smaller so that others can grow.
I’m not the only one who loses out if I don’t resist.
Remember that, greybird, remember that.

Hold my ground with grace and peace,
Take up my space with grace and peace,

…You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here…

By Max Ehrmann © 1927

Eighteen hours to the equinox, my friends.
A day for contemplating balance, equity, compassion,
Justice.

Mercy.

Compassion, patience, acceptance, evenness, peace.

To remind me of foundational principles,
Snow falls,
Soft and silent,
on all.