now under the Flatirons

18::January::2002 20:29 → permalink

This time of the year, under the shadow of the Flatirons. Dreaming of honeysuckle in my mouth. Wine and roses, Goshen, and awakening powers. Finding a Lady Slipper (Cypripedium parviflorum) in the deep wood. Delicate soil-changer. Growing. (Like all rising, growing things, waxing, increase).

Why is this? Is a pivotal point happening sometime soon, has one already transpired? Or was one missed in the noise of the daily movements? No way to tell, except that I do feel inspired by the place. Not the socio-cultural, but the raw presence of place. Why not?

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