Squirrels dance
feathery tails elongated
in the rising sun's light
hidden in the shadows
of immature palms
they jump and play
tumbling over a palm fruit
bouncing off of the soft brown fur of one another
their job now is merely to enjoy and collect
to store their spring bounty
to hop across dew-laden grass to stand erect
and on point sniffing at the air
sensing the vibrations
feeling their way into what is to come
only this now greets the whiskers
on their friendly faces, only this now of
planes arriving for a landing overhead entreats their ears
only this now birds chirping insects hopping
life unfolding eager to greet a new day ready
for what my come, whatever may come.
---2011, written from Grandmother's bough on that golden hill
and partially for you, sweet sistah Melly V.
whose thoughtulness & generosity has landed a squirrel tail
on the altar of one San Diego's Medicine Women.
"Spinning Tales into Gold"
(And as for you, dear stalker - what to say? I love you. Today, I am struggling too, and I am honoring that the best thing I can do with all of my own energy and stalking is to channel it in a certain direction. For me, that direction is writing - & it has been ever since I was a girl.
How about for you?)
