A Recurring Gift
Rain pounding on skylights -
I hardly know what day it is,
so
loosened has become
any thought of time...
I am out in a wide field
with hidden markers...Light
is the
only visible (and more often)
invisible sign of change,
rhythmic, rhyming change,
turning over the world.
In this swiftly shifting sky
of Light and Dark - inside and outside -
are the markers
of being here.
The only markers, really -
all else is surface passing
faster and faster and faster,
while Light and Dark dance
and swoon and wrestle
before our very eyes, Darkness
more visible than it's ever
been,
even in daylight, speaking and posturing
all over the known world.
Only in the moments when I see
and
feel the heart pulsing - my own
and the Heart of the World;
only in the unfolding of everyday
being -
only in the turning of trees, and
in the caterpillars moving with dignity
towards transformation;
and in the fading plants in their vivid presence;
in the insects, squirrels, chipmunks,
foxes, wolves, bears - all preparing
for the hidden season -
so we are invited to do,
but not by
our own choice.
We would never choose nor
think to choose what is required of us now-
a darkness that will dissolve
what we thought we knew
and open our hearts against all odds
into sudden streaming
blinding Light, beyond our own capacities:
a recurring gift.