Magenta Power

Three sister azalea bushes begin to offer blooms, albeit shyly, but not without a sense of graceful, magenta power. I am in awe of blooms – the way they harness the world and give back something . . . better.

Donne's poetry, meditations on tarot, and a discontinued search for being.

May's cold start offers very little to distract from the invitation to an extended hermitage. The still voice whispers go in dark, early hours. Yet, it also firmly pursues me in the bustle of daylight! I know this voice and I know how it will grow in clarity and intensity especially as I delay. For now, how about a nap? A chocolate no-bake cookie? A long walk with the dog? Anything but the logistics of leaving.

Saturday, I was on the side of the highway with a flat tire and an approaching storm. GPS said I was nowhere and so hours passed in the dark - not quite scared but not quite at ease either. We don't really need a savior, do we? And yet, sometimes there is one.

For Mother's Day, I want collective hands in the dirt. Let's build a better trellis for vegetables and flowers and all things which climb to thrive. One day a year, a certain kind of woman is showered with adoration and allowances. It's almost demeaning, if I am honest.

Yet forgiveness as the lesson for learning the past has finished.