this is the eve of a full moon with both venus and jupiter in the heavens, so close yet so far away. these days i walk with one or the other, some days all, of the children::outside. we make elixers to sip on with petals and water set out to be kissed by the suns’ rays, the moons beatific beams. fairy potions stirred with selenite. they ask questions about the flowers. we ask the flowers questions about themselves. the flowers ask us about ourselves. they show us how to seek:: to look at insects found in betwixt and tween. at a lone drop of dew sparkling rainbows. at a silken web left in the grasses by something tiny, what is it? at a bee crawling into orbs as yet unopened. some times our gaze is soft, sometimes in focus; heightened. if we have it, we share the camera.
blue chicory bitter root, bitter leaf, flush the gall from in so deep::we keep company with chicory today. jasper on my back, aamee by my side, it’s me and my two boys in the midst of blue blue so blue, blue as the sky and aamee boy’s eyes, baby boy born blue, his 11th year around the sun is coming up in just 5 more days! he points out it’s not all blue:: there are tints of mauve and yellow interspersed gracefully in the midst of our blue friend where he stands::lovely lovage, we love being in space with you too. just being, breathing, awake to the sounds of bumblebees humblebees working the red clover by our feet, awake to bright yellow goldfinches flying over our heads, fleabane white and feathery tickling our senses, we are thank full for your abundance keeps the gnats away, and the scents:: sweet honey mead yes! we chat about mead, about odin and his quest for the mead guarded by the giant suttung’s daughter, gunold, about snakes and eagles and shapechanging, and how it was odin finally obtained the mead that he took with himself as an eloquent sharing.
we drink and drink deeply:: leaning in we see the multitudinous states and shapes the flowers are in, simultaneously~~ there are buds, seeds, flowers, spent petals~~all at various stages of growth and development and we three, we soak it in, soak it all in, until we hear a yowl from yonder where a hornet has stung little bird, anousheh. when we find her she is in the embrace of her two sisters:: they are chewing plantain leaves and spitting them on the two spots where she was stung, she’s waiting for me to kiss it better and then, poof, the tears dry up and i’m amazed all over again at how in love i am and i’m filled with gratitude till tears overflow. they kiss me all better and ask :: where to spit the plantain?