Coming into the solace of what one call's "mine". Whether it is or it isn't, it's still home...
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Summer Roses
Summer heat came early and therefore out popped the roses. I love how roses seem very tender, feminine and soft, yet they climb, dig, claw their way into high places while protecting themselves from unwanted creatures. The rose seems delicate but my experience of them is a really combination that represents feminine and masculine.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Do you know the scent of honeysuckle?
Syrpy like teenager's perfume
A candle that's been burning too long
A bird that catches the wind
A giggling baby
A bright summer day's cool breeze
It dances and bobbles like a leaf in the brook.
It floats along the neighbor's fence.
It pats the graduate on the back.
It's the feeling of freedom.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
I love the earth. I love dirt. I love the process of planting stuff and watching the magic of growth. I love the toil and sweat and then watching things transform. I think I like sowing more than reaping...hhhmm. There is anticipation, hope, vision, creation when you sow. I love it.
This picture was taken last year, but just two days ago I went at it again. I got dirty, sweaty and sore. I knelt, bent over, crawled, pulled, twisted, dug, carried, planted and laughed.
This year's planting was even more exciting than last year's original creation! Last, year, as you will see in this photo, we started plowing the soil where it had been a lawn. We erected a fence to keep out deer and deep enough to keep out the critters. We strung old cd's to keep the birds at bay. We planted several vegetables but also some strawberries, raspberries and blueberries. It usually takes a few years to begin reaping the harvest of fruit bushes.
To my surprise, when we went out to plant two days ago I saw little berries and several blossoms on the fruit bushes. I could hardly contain myself. It was so exciting. The photo below was also from last year. It is just my little reminder that even though I need to wait for another month of rain, sun, and weeding, I'll be eating fresh organic salads and having berry cobblers!!
Monday, May 10, 2010
Blue Hosta
Today I hung out with my blue hosta for a few minutes and it gave me a message:
It is still cold and early in spring and most things are still small, working their way through the ground searching for sun, but the big blue hosta is already spreading its giant wings.
Some things are meant to be Big.
Some things are designed to get the Attention.
Some things are meant to catch the Eye- inviting the observer to come closer and notice the delicate things nearby.
However,
Not everyone sees.
Not everyone pays attention.
Not everyone desires to be aware.
It is still cold and early in spring and most things are still small, working their way through the ground searching for sun, but the big blue hosta is already spreading its giant wings.
Some things are meant to be Big.
Some things are designed to get the Attention.
Some things are meant to catch the Eye- inviting the observer to come closer and notice the delicate things nearby.
However,
Not everyone sees.
Not everyone pays attention.
Not everyone desires to be aware.
Be you.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Ode to the Mothers
To you the Mother of all mothers
When we were yet dormant seeds
Cold under darkened veil,
you were breaking seas and pushing mountains
When you were still young
Freely exploring, sowing wildly
You expanded, contracted
Burned, froze
Created, Died
Your call to nurture was your nature.
The greens sang praise
raising their arms and clapping their hands
as you breathed over them.
The creatures hopped and crawled and jumped and ran and slithered and pounced to the choreographed song of green.
The deep recesses of your mind ever flowing
from mountain to plain.
Your opinions wound their way past each rock
Until they were persuaded to listen to your wishes-
Waters wear the stones
Granted wishes returned to the deep, deep blue
Where nothing is lost only renewed
Back into the womb, where blue plunges into black
Offspring plays their mortal chase
Then, O Mother, Sweet Mother,
When you were ready, you welcomed us
To grow within you, to enjoy around you, and to love because of you
Each wetted morning step kisses our feet
as your loving rays warms our faces.
You awake the trees from dreamy slumber with whispers through their hair
Their morning giggles waken the birds
All of us sing the melodies that merely reflect back to you the life you birthed in us.
Live on Mama Earth.
When we were yet dormant seeds
Cold under darkened veil,
you were breaking seas and pushing mountains
When you were still young
Freely exploring, sowing wildly
You expanded, contracted
Burned, froze
Created, Died
Your call to nurture was your nature.
The greens sang praise
raising their arms and clapping their hands
as you breathed over them.
The creatures hopped and crawled and jumped and ran and slithered and pounced to the choreographed song of green.
The deep recesses of your mind ever flowing
from mountain to plain.
Your opinions wound their way past each rock
Until they were persuaded to listen to your wishes-
Waters wear the stones
Granted wishes returned to the deep, deep blue
Where nothing is lost only renewed
Back into the womb, where blue plunges into black
Offspring plays their mortal chase
Then, O Mother, Sweet Mother,
When you were ready, you welcomed us
To grow within you, to enjoy around you, and to love because of you
Each wetted morning step kisses our feet
as your loving rays warms our faces.
You awake the trees from dreamy slumber with whispers through their hair
Their morning giggles waken the birds
All of us sing the melodies that merely reflect back to you the life you birthed in us.
Live on Mama Earth.
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