In the early morning on rising
I open my bedroom door and salute pin oak
that stands before me..
always the last to turn to green
he likes to be the final act
one week ago
his tiny leaves still delicate gold
I was only gone three days
to see and hear the mystic, poet sing
and
to celebrate Beltane...
this morning I open my door
to the freshest green
I am a novice
learning of the seasons in my own land..
sap rising
threshold between spring and summer
the time of
being open to sensuous expression
desire
union
consummation
Oh Aotearoa
this is not the time of death
of halloween
instead
rejoice and burst in fullness of the sensuality of this our season!
Tell the stories of lovers and love and longing...
feel the green sap rising!
Thank you to Juliet, teacher and quiet guide, for your words I call on here, your books,
your wonderful story telling and beautiful rituals of our seasons.
You are a treasure.
Thank you to Marilyn for a precious weekend of sharing and exploring. Peace .
Happy Samhain / Halloween to Northern friends!!
Beltane greetings to you Joan! Sounds strange, as it's Samhain here and we just had a party - I had visitors in the shape of ravens, cats, witches, a mad monk, a pumpkin and a ghost!
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely, sensuous poem. Leonard got you in the mood and your tree was there to bring it out... :) For some folks, Halloween is the day when there is the thinnest veil between worlds. I like that. But spring is bringing new life. How fine that is.
ReplyDeleteRuth and Teresa E. isn't it so wonderful to be aware and celebrate our own exquisite season.. and have contact and be aware of Earth in the other hemispere. I have never felt such richness in my life before. Happy Samhain friends.. I feel so close to you because together we are the whole of Earth constantly changing.
ReplyDeleteThe oaks here do the same, Joan, they take their time in leafing out and then, suddenly, there they are. Right now, they are taking their time turning brown, and will hold their brown leaves until late winter. Did you know that Pinocchio, the naughty boy puppet who told so many lies, was carved from the Pin Oak tree?
ReplyDeleteI did not know that Penny. Sometimes things are so obvious we miss them. I have a wooden Pinocchio Mo and I bought in Florence, his home. I will never say Pinocchio again without remembering that Penny.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful green poem, in pictures and in words, and what a joy to now read your blog having met you, so I have a face, a voice and a smile to put to your words and images. It's so special to share the unfolding of the seasons with you Joan.
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