from
the sea (5) by freda karpf
All the irreconcilable differences of a
tomboy growing into a menopausal woman.
What we take in through landscape and environment is never counted. How
do we reconcile the world we live in from the people, the animals and now it
seemed, the birds too should be considered?
As birds filter seamlessly into a tree, would a life passing through the
days seem to fit in with them through the cover of the leaves?
~
The March moon is also known as the Full
Crow Moon. Like all moons it has many other names but if you’re going to go
full circle, and you will, you will need to bring in the circle of crow women.
In all worlds circles become meaningful and compress the many into the one;
thought forms into symbols that breathe and dance to inner rhythms and rivers
of feeling. There is nothing more difficult than meaning without a home to root
it. Circles provide roots and turning; and joining and movement. You will find,
if you join the dance that the dance was going on for a long time before; not just
minutes or even hours; but days and centuries. A very long dance brings the
lives of those living and past into the same form. Recognizing the symbols,
that’s the key to unlocking form’s content and moving into the eternal stream.
~
Mrs. Scattergood hadn’t been able to think
of Baubo as anything but timeless. But
she felt due a visit because it had been a long time since she saw her. Time seemed a poor reference point for Mrs.
Scattergood. She’d been stunned by
menopause. She wasn’t sure if she was
cursed or blessed by the gods. Or was it the meta-gods or the sons and
daughters of the gods? Who knows
anymore? They’re probably the mothers
and fathers of gods that were gods long before gods could imagine unimaginable
power.
~
The dance had already been going on when
Baubo arrived. This place called to her and she didn’t know if she was in the
spirit world, the world of the ancients or in New Jersey. Everyone was so involved in the dance that
her presence went unnoticed. Seemed too, not long after, that she was meant to
be there and she moved into the circle; absorbed by the rhythm of a steady move
around; trampling feet, arms over each other’s shoulders so all were hunched as
if in deep concentration, circling and moving around what Baubo soon realized
was a column of energy moving upward and disappearing as eagles sometimes do,
into the blue.
No comments:
Post a Comment