I’m with the word grateful, grate full.  My grate, a frame holding fuel when burning, is full.

I’ve been quiet this morning.  My mother passed away 15 years ago tomorrow, and I feel her here/near.

I come to my email from Winter Feast of the Soul and today it’s about how we meet death. I’m with the fullness of this moment, life and death, as I listen to this and look out on trees revitalizing what we might perceive of as decay but is only change.


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