Posted in Poems, Updates and Musings

Down to the river at first light | Vermont

they tell me autumn is a time for death, but this is only another quality of life.

The river’s voice is louder now, I want to swim, but it is snowing and the trees no longer protect naked bodies from view.  I kneel and listen.

She sings, wild. I sip of my tea and this is the same water in her body, in mine.  All water is connected, all water is love, all water is life, all water is sacred, all water leads to home.

The source!  I do not see this, but still I KNOW this.  (A mountain spring) within me.  All water be free. Yes!

The water rushes high, river bed full.  Keeping the rocks on the bank wet and warm enough to stay without snow.  The undersides of the trees, too, are bare and the world grows light.

Colors take their qualities into their own hands, dancing in the freedom to dress up in their winter finest.  Together, the earliest part of morning colors and I, run amok.

Panting, breathless now. I am arrived, whole, whole hearted, hearty, and revived.  Inhale, there is movement in my peripheral vision.  Hello shadows.  Good morning spirits and ancient ones.  Thank you for joining me.

My tea is chilled now and I take baby steps back the way I came, not backwards at all.

Good morning wild ones.  Good morning soul and good morning heart.  Yes.

It is morning. Now.


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