Wednesday, May 7, 2008

through halos and rolls and gold folds

Visions on the pond. Revealing and naked again – nothing new here but vision remembered – ahhh. A return. Evening fall is blessing the earth – tragic and hopeful clouds of golden glow. And dusk returns again – the Pond calls it a day. Yet another successful day of reflecting, shimmering, lapping, madly capping and quiet again – gone. Reflecting seagulls, birds, big dumb dogs, fisherman with sad tragic big brown eyes, eagles & jet trails scratching at perfect blue purity. The pond never holds on – lets them come lets them go. Great god clouds of evening – white, gold, red, blackens - moon. And the walkers cease walking.

And spring is exploding out of the earth again. Never ceasing to soften, warm and amaze even the hard hearted hardest New Englander. Old Yankees resigned to stubborn-lostness cant help but to turn inward to the life exploding outward.

The Dusk is rolling over the earth – painting red skies and making clouds glow all over the earth. Rolling in one swath across lands, trees ants and seas. But the falling sun is constant - unfolding somewhere and will make its way back tomorrow and paint a new canvas here with all the gusto of a Man eating Bouillabaisse. Leaving black blotches in the bushes it reddens skies westward. And Oh the sorrow – knowing that you cant drink it in enough – cant punch it deep enough in your gut – and cant ever puke it up better than Nature itself! And its all yours for $425.