2010-Another snowstorm, though only three or so inches, recoats the ground and, together with the cold, gives the light that winter sharpness. The wind is strong and harsh and something within that was beginning to soften or to imagine softening recoils, wounded. Under a hard blue sky, the need arises to go within and discover additional resources to withstand the assault. It is the mind with its knowledge, so unbelievable to the body, that reassures us this is only temporary. Winter’s struggle is doomed.
T says when she saw the nest on her walk there was no one on it and driving by Tuesday I saw the two eagles again sitting side by side nearby. Surely if there was an egg, one would have to be sitting it. A false alarm?
2012-This is the first time I remember there being no ice on the reservoir in mid-February, only a slim necklace at one edge and a crush of fragments susserating against the shore in the wind driven current. There is a faint dusting of white on the mountain that I did not notice yesterday. Poindexter told me that the eagles nest blew down in the August storm but he sees them rebuilding it in the same tree but higher up. I couldn’t see anything.
2013- So anxious to get home and see what’s going on there, force some forsythia, check out the reservoir…
Lupercalia Ritual for the Dark of the Moon
As the sun sets
A dream from the night of full moon in Pisces
Should be sifted through silk
For jealousy and frustration
And these
swallowed down whole.
Divide a heart into four quarters
Offerings for the snake
perfect lingam
For conditioned suffocation
For the sea slick mermaid
And for fear.
Purify if possible
If not
Visualize purification.
When you are ready
Light the candles
For what’s left is to burn
Burn the whole long night
Between the wolf bitch in heat
And the cold void that birthed her.
Howl out your spite at the blackened moon and
do what you can to forget this in the morning.
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