Thursday Poem - At the road's turning, a sign

Stranger, you have reached a fabulous land—

in winter, the abode of swans,

magnolia buds and black leaves

secretly feeding the earth—

memory snaked into tree roots.

In spring, you will feel life changes

bubble up in your blood like early wine,

and your heart will be lighter than

the flight of gossamer pollen.

Stranger, in summer, you will drink deeply

of a curious local wine,

fortified with herbs cut with a silver knife

when the moon was new.

Who knows what freedoms

will dazzle your path like fireflies?

And I promise you, in the fall

you will give up the search and know peace

in the fragrance of apple wood burning.

You will learn how to accept love

in all its masks, and the universe

will sing here more sweetly than any other place.

Dolores Stewart Riccio

(from The Nature of Things)

My friend Dolores passed away unexpectedly last weekend.  and I am still trying to wrap my mind around her departure. A gifted author and a fine poet, she walked through this world cherishing its innate abundance and wildness, and she loved it fiercely. Lit from within, she blazed with life and passion, and somewhere beyond the here and the now, she is still alight.  I have to remember that.