Way of Water
The journey to their new world mired step by slogging step in the rain-soaked bog, feeding ground and sanctuary to countless birds and fish, to
February 27, 2010
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The journey to their new world mired step by slogging step in the rain-soaked bog, feeding ground and sanctuary to countless birds and fish, to
Unhappy with immovable mass, he remembers water, how wind rises in the south. Recalling motion something moves in him, a breath where there was constriction
Look into the morning sun during the first hour, when the brilliant fire turns light into awareness of origin, reverence and the unexpected. As we
Old memories stir like the coal bed of a log fire, fierce heat of distant times when the circle was intact and joy unclouded. We
The wandering soul, one foot before another, moving yet not moved as if constant motion, would avoid the imprint of something or someone to fear
Crows circle the predawn sky, their flock of dark wings making impossible turns, pivoting with the certainty of a thousand feathers, their delight a private