I usually get up between around 6 am, and I’ve been photographing the sky out my windows, front and back, for a few months now. Last week was only the second time I’ve seen it out the kitchen window at that time.
The very next morning it was out front, to the south, as usual.
between never and spring roots cycle thick beneath earth
trees sing of always and birds climb winter wind into this wandering moonlit dawn
The days seem shorter than usual this winter, and greyer. The Oracle knows.
always this leavetaking– as if the wind was a light, an ancient breathsong to follow into rivers rooted beneath deep forest moonshine– a secret buried between winter’s dark quiet and the cloud-covered sun
The one word the Oracle was certain she wanted me to use this morning was coffee.
drink stars in your morning coffee ask for sky voices to wake the heart remember the magic lingering like oceans dancing on rhythms of never mind give time the eye of breath listen with flying colors sail open the dark hole of night