Seeds of Change

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The Desert Mothers

peer out of pale pink apple

blossoms, fringed chamisa

clumps of gray green

asters…

A glittering diamond frost

coats dark red ground.

Redwing and Dove songs

celebrate new life

in the Round.

 

My Visions

repeat the warning:

Slow down.

It’s not time

for too much

raw Sap to rise.

Scorching tender roots

is a grave mistake.

Roots need Earth space,

to drift and dream,

delve ever deeper

into meaning

before spring fire

bursts into golden splendor,

embodying September’s Grace.

 

The Desert Mothers know

that timing is all –

that rooting requires patience,

heartfelt attention

and dedication.

Heeding signs

from rain clouds

unfolds forgiving

blue

wings around us.*

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*( Just after completing this poem I go outdoors and am stunned to see a circle of blue open under heavy gray skies – this kind of sign appearing so soon after writing the above sentence reveals the profound interconnection between every human being and this beloved Earth we call home – Later a second synchronicity – I am re -reading poem and although it is absolutely still the door opens by itself – Someone is speaking and I am listening)

 

I imagine tender roots

twining around each other.

Seasons turn.

Together,

embracing possibilities,

changes

of perspective,

the weather of uncertainty,

they thrive.

Well nourished

by Love that tolerates Separation

one day – root tendrils become robust.

Passion can now be unleashed

to climb through

the Desert Mother’s Hair

torching an evening sky,

with Wild Flames

from a Noonday Star.