Harvest moon basket

Moon and Water by Mary Oliver

I wake and spend
The last hours
Of darkness
With no one
But the moon.
She listens
To my complaints
Like the good
Companion she is
And comforts me surely
With her light.
But she, like everyone,
Has her own life.
So finally I understand
That she has turned away,
Is no longer listening.
She wants me
To refold myself
Into my own life.
And, bending close,
As we all dream of doing, she rows with her white arms
Through the dark water
Which she adores.

After the equinox

Watching the window -
close the door against the cool
with the cat's return.

Fall-ing

Autumnal equinox

More noting of tiny beauty all around

worlds within worlds

New energies

Journal play

Fall clematis blooms

late summer rain

elemental collaboration

Blessing

Just off the highway to Rochester, Minnesota,
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more, they begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

James Arlington Wright

Baking Day

On the journey

Stepping out