Three deer grace the meadow’s edge

They feel like spirit beings

As I join them

Moving into the twilight space

Of this morning’s meditation.

Weaving in and out of the two realms.

My sister has come -as one of the three

Bending her head -moving in the shadows

Here – again

To free my heart with a rememberance

Of the endless love

She gave to me.

Hello Best Beloveds

Fellow Earthings- our precious planet.

The fox trotted to the river

For a cool sip after seeking supplies for his kits

Tucked in somewhere nearby.

He’s doing his thing – as I do mine.

Taking paintings to a shop

For her baby section-

A chance to go sweeter still.

````````````

The utter blessing of being here

As the valley greens more each day

Yesterday I dodged a snake- crossing the road

She was very directional

In her journey to the other side.

We each get to choose where we are going

In this one perfect day.

Tom Cruise is so angry – at the start-

He is consumed….

As he mutters and slams the car door

To walk down the center of the road-

Anything to get away from his brother…..

Who can not comply.

And we ( the audience) get to witness

The darkened rabbit hole

Of identification with a feeling-

All perspective lost.

You wouldn’t want this for anyone….

It’s so miserable.

But as the film progresses

There is the blossoming

In this young man’s heart….

Exactly what we want for each other.

Rainman- so incredible.

Sal’s pick- xo

The neighbors white sheep died last night

A covered mound

In the field next to our shop

So odd because just the day before

I had paused to admire him-

(He is not usually a beautiful creature)

But on this day – he had this kind of glow about him….

Maybe we glow before we go.

Hello fellow fluffy pink things

As we waddle into this new moment together…

The dream of separation – forgotten-

We bask in our One Thing- ness- relieved

(It was so much work – to differentiate

The ” look at me” – “no me”)

Can no longer be sustained… the earth won’t have it

As she leaps into her next incarnation of consciousness

We can go as One-

Or be thrown off into outer space.

I don’t mean to scare ya-

That’s just the way it is.

The tiny blossoms of the wild plum

Are set to life by the dark grays of the forest –

Not yet ready to leaf- am I?

The white merganser is

As he tucks into the current

Gone – until popping up

Like a jack in the box- thrilled

By these small surprises

The insistance- to join in the fun

Of the crab apple in full bloom

PINK- PINK PINK- we will be renewed

Whether we are ready or not.

My mother savored the melancholy

Of early spring-reciting a painful poem

By Edna St Vincent Millay( called Spring)

Just going to show-

That there is pleasure to be found

In our moody questioning – of all this joy.

Tra- La

I joined a laddership pod- through Service Space

And I’ve been in Nerd Heaven

Exploring from Me to We to Us

With 200 other people & the voluteers organizing us..

It’s been great, ( next one in 3 months – perhaps it’s for you)

Well-

You know how we struggle with being here…

But as a result of this pod experince

Of being with a field of a loosely kindred flock

Of odd birds- my people…

I just needed to know that they were out there

Not my personal connections – but random – others

Tracking what I’m tracking

To turn the tide.

To help me jump

Into the murmuration

The over arching theme of isolation- dissipating

Replaced by a natural alignment that was always there

Can be felt as real-

The black tar gone from our feathers

As we turn on a dime

I somehow needed to know that there was a bunch of us out there

Vibing with what is might mean to be an – us

Does anyone else feel- the repeat

Like the Movie- Groundhog’s Day

Am I perfecting in myself

That which I have no knowldege of

So as to convince the universe

That I am it’s mate

The one it’s been waiting for.

Humbled by how much I don’t get it-

What is happening to time

And my sence of self and

All the other illusions-

Slipping through the hour glass

Awake- asleep= Awake.

``````````````````

Are we on a trajectory?

As in- “Do we have a destination?”

Having entered what feels like a giant pause-

The eye of the storm- waitng for fresh breath-

Stalled or cosmically resting….

For the final push?

Eating our vegtables and

Managing to say a few groovie things

Here and there- but that’s about it.

Oddly inspired by how odd it feels…

What’s your take? xo Sally

What a change in the weather-

The long awaited snow has arrived

At last we can relax—

Banks gets muddy feet and eats grass

Saying- Lets stay our here forever.

I am the old woman- Bank’s companion-

And I agree- Let’s stay our here forever…

Having tied a string to my figure

As a reminder-

That I have signed my name

Sally White King

To The Book of Love.

We get to stay.

Mid path- the snow covered brambles

remind me that I have always been at home

The love that I trusted

Releasing what no longer serves

Whom I had written to – trusting love

THE FIELD

This photo is a self portrait-

My hair – dry as winter grass-

Eyes a wild sky- nosing the air- my feet tap

Wanting to enter the distant edge-

The myterious woods- the adventure in my soul-

A beckoning bramble patch…..

Where are we going – you might ask

And I will say – this way.