In pencil the heart is naked- carbon on paper pulp, lead on wood, the same me writing to the same you, impulse activating muscle and bone, thought ending in a gesture.
About today- a particular day for this rose bush, sporting new green on old canes hardened in frost. From the root suspended juices slowly rise.
Even in dormancy- a pulse.
Nothing halts elemental generating- somewhere, sometime, it's always spring, waiting for conditions to signal.
Come on- here's the never ending circle of cyclical things.
Dear five-petaled Rosa-rugosa- we have come here to die, you and I, come faithfully, year after year, alive like this, beginning again.
A caterpillar who loves us- is turning within it's sack, where shaping is visible. When it emerges, needing nourishment, we'll give ourselves up to that hunger.
Even in dormancy- a pulse.
Nothing halts elemental generating- somewhere, sometime, it's always spring, waiting for conditions to signal.
Come on- here's the never ending circle of cyclical things.
New Prospect Pottery specializes in functional stoneware/porcelain pottery that is reduction fired either with wood or gas. I fire with Tony Moore in Cold Spring, NY in his wood kiln. The pottery has just added a gas kiln to provide collectors with a new variety of colors and surfaces. New Prospect Pottery is now home in a new studio. Stop by to say hi.
http://mscomfortzone.blogspot.com/
ReplyDeleteposted today
Love
In pencil the heart is naked-
carbon on paper pulp,
lead on wood,
the same me writing to the same you,
impulse activating muscle and bone,
thought ending in a gesture.
About today-
a particular day for this rose bush, sporting new green
on old canes hardened in frost.
From the root
suspended juices slowly
rise.
Even in dormancy-
a pulse.
Nothing halts elemental generating-
somewhere, sometime,
it's always spring,
waiting for conditions to signal.
Come on-
here's the never ending circle of cyclical things.
Dear five-petaled Rosa-rugosa-
we have come here to die,
you and I,
come faithfully, year after year,
alive like this,
beginning again.
A caterpillar who loves us-
is turning within it's sack, where shaping is visible.
When it emerges,
needing nourishment,
we'll give ourselves up to that
hunger.
Even in dormancy-
a pulse.
Nothing halts elemental generating-
somewhere, sometime,
it's always spring,
waiting for conditions to signal.
Come on-
here's the never ending circle of cyclical things.
Welcome.