Tuesday, February 19, 2013
knowing the self as sunlight
WINTER: WOMAN LOOKING FROM THE WINDOW AT A SPRUCE TREE
by Maryann Whalen
The sunlight catches in the heart
as if to steer a deeper self to memory
of a time gone, another life of
knowing the self as sunlight.
Not a small shy animal,
not a mystic saint or an
uncounted peasant hoeing corn,
but sunlight, playing alone in winter,
along a branch, moving lightly,
settling lightly on crystallized snow
held gently there, not especially warm,
but light, being right, and not thinking.
The earth was younger then,
in the deep green shine of spruce.
Though not still, self was silent then
and is that now, ineffably held.
"Something opens our wings. Something
makes boredom and hurt disappear.
Someone fills the cup in front of us.
We taste only sacredness."
There was a little of that damp snow this weekend, the sort that will cling to branches. It didn't last - the sun burned it off quite quickly. I'm trying to gather up my writing energy again this morning after the long weekend. Reminding myself that part of the work is to look out the window, to see myself in the light, to see what catches in the heart.....to see what is caught and held in branches and other unlikely spots.