1/28/12....Last full moon of the year, rising over the snow covered land, here in the Northeast, by the Atlantic shore. The push and pull of recent family events, celebrations, mournings, and ever present obligations has me wondering; introspective, the whirl of the world and my place in it; like you, like the seagull, like the crows at dawn, or the deer bedded down now, in their mysterious place. Finding our place, in this moment.
The Edge Of Her Wing
as a whisper against your cheek.
Look to the upper branches of pine!
She is not only there
she is everywhere.
She comes when the stable land softens
trembles in her quake,
when the catch of breath
in the ecstatic moment
is all love, is all we have
and we conspire to hold on
or forever be swept into greatness.
But this is her reason for coming;
to take us in a circular,
sweep of wing
let go she says