A Savory Sage Stew

March roared in like a lion, not in terms of our ordinary, external weather, rather in terms of my own inner environment.

I discovered myself feeling feelings I had not felt in quite a while. Feelings I recognized. Feelings that demanded my attention, and begged for greater intimacy. Feelings that, in those days of memory, had become mindless and mechanical ... routine, and thereby unripe for exploration and excavation for no other reason than: Who had the time and energy for such a daily effort?

That was then. This is Now.

"Now," March roared, through the voice of Nona E, "you will make the time and invest the energy."

The feelings came to me in flavors of darkness and discomfort... anger and angst... sorrow and satire. And I recognized them as favored flavors that I seek to savor.

all you can do is love

i stewed
i sipped
i savored
i saw old in new shimmer
and new in old glimmer
and the roar hushed
and the cauldron foamed
and steamed to a simmer
i skimmed the scum
i seasoned the soup
i sipped and supped
i sensed the sage
and settled

Peace.