#aracay

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Emily Dickinson

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Poppies

Mary Oliver

The poppies send up their orange flares; swaying in the wind, their congregations are a levitation

of bright dust, of thin and lacy leaves. There isn’t a place in this world that doesn’t

sooner or later drown in the indigos of darkness, but now, for a while, the roughage

shines like a miracle as it floats above everything with its yellow hair. Of course nothing stops the cold,

black, curved blade from hooking forward— of course loss is the great lesson.

But I also say this: that light is an invitation to happiness, and that happiness,

when it’s done right, is a kind of holiness, palpable and redemptive. Inside the bright fields,

touched by their rough and spongy gold, I am washed and washed in the river of earthly delight—

and what are you going to do— what can you do about it— deep, blue night?

Mary Oliver p39, New and Selected Poems

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My Shadow - I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me

“But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head, Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.”

Robert Louis Stevenson

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coffee and poetry.

yoga.

farmers market.

library.

all before breakfast.

next? nothing. which is my reward.

i m simply hunkering in my hobbit hole for the rest of my weekend. or is it a rabbit hole?

Sometimes I believe in as many as six impossible things before breakfast.

—Alice

Happy Saturday.

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l darkness has a hunger that's insatiable And lightness has a call that's hard to hear

....

We go to the doctor, we go to the mountains We look to the children, we drink from the fountain Yeah, we go to the Bible, we go through the work out We read up on revival, we stand up for the lookout There's more than one answer to these questions Pointing me in a crooked line And the less I seek my source for some definitive The closer I am to fine

---Closer to Fine by  Amy Elizabeth Ray / Emily Ann Saliers

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Emily Dickinson, p130

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And take me disappearing through the smoke rings of my mind Down the foggy ruins of time Far past the frozen leaves The haunted frightened trees Out to the windy beach Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky With one hand waving free Silhouetted by the sea Circled by the circus sands With all memory and fate Driven deep beneath the waves Let me forget about today until tomorrow

...

In the jingle jangle morning I'll come following you

Bob Dylan, Mr Tamborine Man