Wrote a poem today, thank you, world. Even this incessant wind, that throws flower pots across my yard
tastes of freedom, and wholeness,
is beautiful, and
Mesmerized, and living
The patient hand
of the wind
of the grass
again and again.
Living as an art of enjoying the melting of ideas that seemed to get between us and them, human living and the rest of the living--and even between the "living" and the no longer. Some inspiration and tastes of the liveliness along borders, or meeting lines... a lovely project on treasuring and tending some words from the Irish language and life on and near the sea. Thank you, Taraji O'Leary for sharing the link. The animated watercolor-collage shorts are delicious. "The Irish language reflects a deep relationship between humans and the natural world, a sensibility shared with many Indigenous languages—from those belonging to First Nations of British Columbia, to the Ainu of Japan. Irish largely does not demarcate between the human world and nature, nor between this world and the next."