pio's place
pio's place
Reflections in a Puddle of Mud Concerning A Long Winter
It has been a long, dark winter here in Sweden. The horses stand dumbly in the mud and ice staring at nothing. The birds seem a little desperate at times. I have been alone a lot and can feel something of the soul dark these northern people suffer.
But today little clouds like puff buttons on the costume of a clown are drifting along merrily in a carnival blue sky. I'm longing for the first real sign of spring. What a celebration that will be in my soul-land: all that lime green freshness sprouting and singing.
Though it seems there is more winter to come, the birds have already become cheerier. I think they can feel into the nature of things with a more poignant sense of where the seasons actually are. I'm hoping for the heart of the world to break open soon and realize the secret sun of Love that never falters beyond these clouds, but then I'm an incurable dreamer.
Reflections in a Puddle of Mud Concerning A Long Winter
It has been a long, dark winter here in Sweden. The horses stand dumbly in the mud and ice staring at nothing. The birds seem a little desperate at times. I have been alone a lot and can feel something of the soul dark these northern people suffer.
But today little clouds like puff buttons on the costume of a clown are drifting along merrily in a carnival blue sky. I'm longing for the first real sign of spring. What a celebration that will be in my soul-land: all that lime green freshness sprouting and singing.
Though it seems there is more winter to come, the birds have already become cheerier. I think they can feel into the nature of things with a more poignant sense of where the seasons actually are. I'm hoping for the heart of the world to break open soon and realize the secret sun of Love that never falters beyond these clouds, but then I'm an incurable dreamer.
posted by Blake Steele at 2:23 AM
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