I’ve been in a bit of a tender harvest as I pause to digest and integrate all that’s happened and is happening politically. Perhaps because I was raised to believe we care for each other, I’m shocked at those who see it so differently.
Yesterday afternoon, I made a fire in the fireplace and watched the sparkling dance as I listened to the crackle and watched the clouds move as day turned to night. Life seems so rich to me right now. Yes, my bubble is small, Steve, me, two cats, but there are trees, and I see that though some of them stand with their branches still bare, buds form to emerge in this new month that comes.
January comes from Latin. Janus is the god of beginnings and transitions. We’re certainly living that.
I sink into Joy Harjo’s words to guide and warm my day.
Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their families, their histories too. Talk to them, listen to them.
They are alive poems.