Friday

Solstice



Summertime...berries on the bushes, fruit in the trees, lovers in the grasses.  Flowers everywhere.  Birds singing the nest back and forth from worm to waiting mouth of the babe. Calves chasing anything: butterfly, bee or the shadow of a passing cloud.  Chasing hard then sleeping it off.

Me, too.  Sleeping it off in dreams filled with grace and wonder, terror and mystery.  Drawings, large and bold: my berries.  My fruit.  My offerings to the grace, the wonder, the terror and the mystery.  Offering myself to the tenderness that says love.  Offering to be filled with the confusion of uncertainty.  Offering, hands open and empty to the peace that says nothing but simply is.  An invitation to the dance backsided by an acceptance of the same....summertime.