Sunday, August 1, 2010

In between

Oh man. I'm feeling the season of Lammas, this cross quarter moment halfway between summer solstice and fall equinox. It's not quite harvest season, yet summer has peaked and begun to recede. Lammas is a time that's neither here nor there. My shamanic dance at this moment looks a whole lot like the limbo.

In Reclaiming we characterized Lammas as a time of both hopes and fears. I'm feeling it, definitely. My heart is full to the brim with both emotions. All this hope, so much fear, overlapped in a way that makes it hard to tell the difference! Maybe my hopes and fears represent flip sides of the same thing, who knows?

I had a good sleep last night, so I'm therefore feeling more plush, as Mary Oliver would say. I'm more resilient this morning, confident that I can abide with an abundance of hope/fear for the time being. I wasn't so sure yesterday or the day before. I love a good sleep! Oh yeah.

White Flowers

Last night
in the fields
I lay down in the darkness
to think about death,
but instead I fell asleep,
as if in a vast and sloping room
filled with those white flowers
that open all summer,
sticky and untidy,
in the warm fields.
When I woke
the morning light was just slipping
in front of the stars,
and I was covered
with blossoms.
I don’t know
how it happened—
I don’t know
if my body went diving down
under the sugary vines
in some sleep-sharpened affinity
with the depths, or whether
that green energy
rose like a wave
and curled over me, claiming me
in its husky arms.
I pushed them away, but I didn’t rise.
Never in my life had I felt so plush,
or so slippery,
or so resplendently empty.
Never in my life
had I felt myself so near
that porous line
where my own body was done with
and the roots and the stems and the flowers

--Mary Oliver


steven said...

wow that is incredibly beautiful and mary oliver writes beautiful poetry but that just hovers in that nice nothingness and everythingness space. wow!!! steven

Dan Gurney said...

I'm with steven. Mary Oliver writes the most sublime poetry. Oh that's something. Thanks for sharing it. Wow!! Wow!!!

ellen abbott said...

maybe you are taking root in your new place.

Elizabeth said...

the day for celebrating the first harvest grains
rather a lovely quiet time of year

what a super poem to chose for the day
home your new home is proving comfortable and lovely

TaraDharma said...

gawww what a poem. I love MO. I need to visit your blog more often - lots of good good stuff.

We have not had a warm summer here on the Calif coast -- I moan about it until I think about everyone back east cookin' their butts off. (melting their butts off?)

Kerry said...

Thanks for the lovely dose of Mary Oliver: she is so restorative, isn't she? Your flowers look as though they have awakened full force, feeling rested just like you.

Reya Mellicker said...

YES she is restorative, what a great word.

Melting, cooking, whatever. Our butts are fried.

However today is lovely, soft and almost cool. Maybe August will be gentle with us this year.

Pauline said...

splendid poem, splendid photographs! splendid you :)

Karen said...

Wow--thank you for sharing that poem. I'm going to have to come back to it a couple times...

Val said...

love this - sorry havent commented for a while but have been reading and loving your blog posts and all the food for thought feasts therein! fabulous poem - thanks xx