In this moment, we find ourselves longing.
Our table is set for goddesses.
We have dreamt each other.
“Inversion” by Anon
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Winter lies too long in country towns; stays on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen,
Willa Cather in My Antonia
Have I, like winter in a country town, stayed on too long?
Growing old, have I grown stale and sullen? My attire
Is a matter of rapt attention, but am I seen as shabby?
Perhaps my over-told anecdotes gone stale. I could
Refresh those stories with more details, I suppose.
Not age, but the tenor of these times have turned me sullen,
Sombre and as gray as the overcast winter sky
My life has become spare, bare like winter’s trees.
In the winter of my years, days seem shorter
Then, as if after-solstice, days seem to lengthen
And brighten, One more spring is likely, and I, like winter,
With inward nurturing of seeds and bulbs underground,
May blossom again in the warmth of the season to come.
“Winter Self” by Florence Ladd
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A meandering god stepped into silence
when I was three years old, settled
and spoke with me inside the dappled edge
of maples, oaks and cedars across the road.
Unfettered, I melded
with dirt, clay, tree trunks and stone.
Doleful and pliant mud, worked from yesterday’s rain
which persisted in widening the gully across the front field,
we molded into dishes, laid them aside.
Red clay. Red bowls. Red plates.
Pinched small lumps, rolled them between thumb
and fingertips, peas. Placed them in a bowl.
Between each pea a pause, and my companion
who perhaps had always been with me.
Then, on haunches and mudded feet,
we blessed a bowl and ate.
“Unfettered” by Melva Sue Priddy, from Waves: A Confluence of Women’s Voices
“Sheltering” by Clare Olivares
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I am at the beginning of me, I have poured into other lives, but never my own . . . now I stand to find me, the joy I have and the fulfillment I seek, to write.
Hosea Robinson
. . .
WAVES ALIVE
a different way of being
Join us most months on the following schedule:
June 20 | July 18 | September 19 | October 17 | November 21
. . .
In this moment, how do we find ourselves?
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WAVES ALIVE | a different way of being
