Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Between forest and field, a threshold
like stepping from a cathedral into the street—
the quality of air alters, an eclipse lifts,
boundlessness opens, earth itself retextured
into weeds where woods once were.
Even planes of motion shift from vertical
navigation to horizontal quiescence:
there’s a standing invitation to lie back
as sky’s unpredictable theater proceeds.
Suspended in this ephemeral moment
after leaving a forest, before entering
a field, the nature of reality is revealed.
Crossings ~ Ravi Shankar
Once again, the wheel of sky turns to the impossible blue skies of October, fall bringing subtle changes in air and earth, leaves starting to turn, squirrels scurrying with nuts, a subtle slowing down before winter. Mornings dawn like tender pearls here in the mountains, a soft veil of blue mist lifts in the day, springs to the sun. I love these tender mornings; gather them close to my heart, for they don't last. Nothing stays, all changes, it's a reminder to take that moment, to be.