Photo courtesy of: ‘Marigold’ by Judy Paris – Flickr
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The ‘promise of Spring’ is really a hope and a prayer, there are no guarantees in linear time as much as we like to pretend there are. Plans we make… do they ever really turn out ‘exactly’ the way we imagine? The vagaries of living again and again get in the way of carefully masterminded enterprises. Here’s something you can do… along with planning…
“Bring to mind the future, allowing it to be completely indeterminate. Instead of thinking about this or that coming event, see if you can let the unknownness of the future come to the foreground… Before the rational and the logical, prior to sorting and collecting and the conviction that what we assemble is what is so, a kind of innocence is available. Born in freedom and honesty, it conducts joy and love… invite the wholeness of perception into each sense perception and each thought. Let this wholeness deepen beyond observation. You can appreciate whatever arises, seeing each arising as an instance of the time-space interplay. Within seeing there is beauty and light; within hearing there is stillness and meaning. The more you can cherish the treasures that time presents, the more you will have the sense of acting into time and space and acting on behalf of all phenomena. Ultimately, this appreciation can expand to accommodate the transforming wholeness of love.†‘Dynamics of Time and Space’, p. 331-5
MARIGOLD EARLY RAINY FEBRUARY WELCOME SONG
By Ken McKeon
As useless as ice cream
In a dedicated no fun world,
The marigolds are all aflame today
With bright golden petals fluttering out
Stiff shakes and crude lifts,
These wrested up from tough green stems,
Who would truly like anything like that?
If drunk enough, I surely would,
If I bottled up the chill Spring air,
Then gulped it down all morning long,
These crude flowers would tickle up my eyes,
And I’d lavish them with laughter,
I’d grab their shakes and jumps,
The breeze fed boosts of bright
Color reddish orange palpability
My fingers rough stroke through
Like the popcorn children ravage in their greasy bags.
Set aside the weighty sky today,
And the fragile glitter of a crystal cup,
Marry my heart and my tongue
As much you ever can,
And let these flowering sturdy cheerful blooms
Be the centrality of brashest joy within your life.
