Winter
Some flaw in the ceramic: my coffee cup trembles on its saucer, unable to find its footing.
Sometimes just stopping and loosely holding can be very powerful. Hands on the chest, or on the feet, or the small of the back -- anywhere -- just resting there, just saying, pay attention to this, here, breathe into it, notice it, feel how alive and yearning it is.
Glittering stars, this morning. Light winds came with the dawn, stirred the leaves, put me in mind of something huge and old sighing, shifting in its sleep. It's truly winter, now, and the pitiless, brilliant winter stars are out: Capella drives his indifferent chariot past Regulus and Aldebaran. God help all who are abroad and homeless; God help the betrayed and the abandoned.
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