What I want is connection. I want to swim in the sweet, sensual spring
of connection. How impossible and yet
completely delightful and unexpected these feelings. Suddenly spring is my focus and I’m fully
given over to its excesses and tenderness. The trick of spring. I am undone.
The deep midnight blue of lobelia is my
favorite. Today, again in the
supermarket, apparently my favorite place for sensual pleasures, I was
selecting apricots. Their softness and
color seeped into my skin, seemed to flow in my veins. I felt as if I merged with them. I don’t know what the Foodtown security
people do in cases like this, do you?
On a hot day full of sun, if you ask me,
I’ll probably tell you that gazanias are my favorite flower. They’re the sun, the plains, warmest
The river of new thoughts are raw and
green.
Yesterday, the next day, flowers.
For me, the call of the wild is the
longing to have wilderness left unharmed.
I’m riding the waves. Though I don’t know how, I know they connect
to all landscapes, cool canyons, wild onions, even the prairie dog. We know the wolves belong in
Our bones, our stones, our baskets of shells and every place a place for feathers. The wild has come inside. Have I touched the wild in some way? The salmon are jumping and flipping orange to the sky gods. The frogs are gurgling mud and river blood. The loons are loony and jiving on insects and little fishies. The water is washing silt onto the banks. There is no fragmented, segmented aspect of my being. The river is not separate from me but a part of it all. And that is a good thing.
available on kindle, see freda karpf, the wild blue
thanks
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