As I surf the tide of a new year and the flow of an online class that motors me to the next shore, I am trying to find the swell of goodness that I can pass along. Every day I wake in a blur of half dream ideas and plans, escorting me into consciousness. I mull the mind-fodder at the cusp of possibility in the daylight. What can I bring fresh and uncorrupted to you? How can I present it with clarity? I will let the wind have its way.
I opened a book on Day One of the new session of Threads of Meaning. Here is what I found.
From The Outer Banks by Muriel Ruykeyser
Sands have washed, sea has flown over us.
Between the two guardians, spiral, truncated wing,
history and these wild birds...
"No bird soars in a calm," said Wilbur Wright.
Dragon of the winds forms over me.
You dance, goddesses in your circle
sea-wreath, whirling of the event
behind me on land as deep in our own lives
we begin to know the movement to come.
Sunken, drowned spirals,