cold frame

Something new is occurring here

It is calling me into daylight and fresh air

A call to be as near as is possible, 

with all my attention, 

to what is 

here

now.

There is a man in my life

Outside my window

Building a cold frame for our winter salads

In the sun

In the fall wind

Far from what I fear or doubt

I’m called from inside to meet outside

inside is outside

This is the new world

The gold purse is mine.

The sound of the saw is piercing the air.

There is honey in a man moving in the morning sun.

an invitation

surrender

is invited in this moment

and the next

my heart breaks

to be given over

endlessly

how

ever

through laughter

and precious awareness

of love's gift.

collecting honey

bees buzzing

rolling in pollen and sunshine

petaled in lavender crocus.

let such a collecting be my work
to feed and be fed
the honey, the touching
sweet and kind.

a busy collective creation
their joy, our food.

waking up to the sweetness

i had sight of a memory this morning
one that used to cause me such pain
to remember

one that was birthed out of an earlier time
in order to see exactly what I was thinking
and how i created my experience,
then, then
and now.

in shock, left out, not chosen

this time i could feel laughter rising
of having put myself in this absurdly painful situation
and how every one else played their parts
so perfectly.

waking up to the sweetness
of the honey
dripping
into the fire.