The time when what is but felt can be seen:
It is the sliding away of night and day
Dirt on my sleeves mud on my knees
Praying in the gray twilight of spring
In the fading day of sunset green leaves
Like postcards from months ago look autumn gold.
The Spirit moves and wings take flight.
Squint sideways at yellow and watch them go
Every gap in the branches a skylight.
The Goddess pushes past branches, leans close,
In equal measure both Sage and Sprite,
This wind, Her wisdom, a Holy Flow,
She kisses my forehead, gentle, light,
Watch Her lead...see me follow...
1.30.2006
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