greening over time

When I was Young the Silk

When I was young the silk

of my mind

hard as a peony head

unfurled

and wind bloomed the parachute:

The air-head tugged me

up,

tore my roots loose and drove

high, so high

I want to touch down now

and taste the ground

I want to take in

my silk

and ask where I am

before it is too late to know

…A.R. Ammons

seeing ourselves as a bird on a wire…maybe here, landing once in the greening of our soul, maybe then, we can crack wide open, breathe, & let go…maybe…

listen to the wind as you fall..knowing it is enough…knowing you aren’t too late after all…

don’t forget your camera or your paints or your journal…

or the flash of sky melting through trees & seeping in your memory…

The same hills as always, as in the afternoon, but now catching the light in a totally new way, at once very earthly & very ethereal, with delciate cups of shadows & dark ripples & crinkles where I had never seen them, & the whole slightly veiled in mist so that it seemed to be a tropical shore. ‘Look! Look!’ For these are the discoveries, & it is for this that I am high on the mast of my ship, & I know that we are on the right course, for all around is the sea of paradise….Thomas Merton

where is the greening of your quiet?