The first few days of 1997 received no notations in my black-leatherbound book. I offer these morsels, these bursts of in-spiraling, these indelible moments for your delight!
Jan. 6: Grief to gratitude, darkness to pink mountain tops, now all in sun and blue sky...
Where do these mindstates go? Like clouds, dissolve.
Jan 7: Like a bellows--birdwings, twenty little grey guys impelling from the haybarn to junkpile (grocery store to condo) in winter's deepest cold. Fast beating hearts moving quick liquids; tiny eyes alert, nay vigilent; parts of one great flockmind, bound to survival by invisible instincts!
Jan 8: Oh, animals, you are deep in my psyche, silohetted against the blue snow, deer crossing river, heron in the icy flow on one firm leg, geese scattered acrosss the vast white pasture heads bobbing while eating; and in my deep places, inaccessible, you surge through to keep me: wild, harmonious and free!
Jan 9: Water rushing rock; rock obstructing water...great sound, sudden white. Oh! Heron!
What sound do your thin legs make, rooted in icy waves?
Jan 10: Red stallion sweaty and impatient tied to a tree. I will soothe you, smell your fecundity, your virility, but free you? We are tethered brother, but not for long.
Jan 11: Tears of joy, tears of sorrow: tears all the same. Breath of rage, breath of compassion: breath all the same. Purity in substance; all dissolves.
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