31st March, 2019. Monday
So its not about the Dream inside today. Its an outside Dream Day.
Waking to Zoi snarffle at the edge of my bed, my nose swivvled my head towards the waft of scent lolling through the screen of my window. That scent. That smell. Waking. Waking Earth. Fresh. Vibrant, Promise. All things possible on this waft.
Today its about that Scent. Hope is in this air.
How is it that Earth’s birthing brings the fresh. That all the piles of decay of last year’s friuts tombed in frigid dark with hit gift of heating light drenched Earth fires forth teeming, chirping, racing, buzzing, stinking Life. This smell, this sweet sweet stench, this fragrance calling sounding forth the Dance of Birth.
Having lived for two full decades on lands which subtle season’s cycles, this here ground makes no bones about its phases. “Take the Ride through my canvases of Seasons if you dare.” Out loud and proud it shouts its phases. I am in awe. Grateful for this structure I purchased on a whim. A fortress, it bears all the forces of this Earth with unapologetic presence. For Fuck’s Sake, its even got a tower that is Pink?
I am in quandary. Its Spring and a time for new. My hair is new, my projects are new and I have come through a new kind of winter in a new home in a new town with all kinds of new lessons. I have been told of duckle pups who hail from mythic parentage, A Fantasy Girl whose Mama charmed me by her stoic solid at a show last Fall, might well be calling me to collect her in my Pack.
I know they call to us, these creatures we assume we choose. But they do choose us. And bring their lessons and their love.
I am weighing this this fine fine Spring. There are waftings on this Light fresh Wind.
So much finer than the Rant I could release about the Great Embarassment’s latest Tweets. Sun’s in Aries, God of War, calling us to Act. Do something, Dammit.
Tea is Jasmined once again poured forth from Hatter’s Madness Spout.
Ta.
Tea With Me 