I spoke with folk tonight who like to walk in the winter. I don’t. But I love to look.
The Merrimack River is beginning to ice over up in Amesbury. Being tidal, there’s plenty of resistance to doing so. But it does. Right now, it’s skimming over like pudding left too long in the refrigerator.
The early snow has left the land white, while the river still threads darkly towards the sea. It’s like that void of energy the Buddhists swear to. Actually I swear to it now too.
Beneath this aging exterior runs a river of consciousness as deep as eternity and as wide as infinity and as quick as light itself. The universe taught me to manifest this organic wonderworks in order to know itself.
Know this. Ice will grow and in time become a body that covers the river’s depth. The sun will be reflected in its mirror surface and know itself. Spring will resurrect and ice will melt and the river that ran beneath its surface will return.
But the river is always there. Look.
DAFFODILS - (Spring) A sunny morning; The daffodils I planted Are now my neighbors’ spring. David Filed under: Uncategorized Tagged: daffodils, hokku, seasons, spri...
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