Off Road, On the Glade, Spell Makers, Spell-Breakers

Last week my husband and I discovered cat tracks out in the wild. We were on the Uncompagre Plateau. The tracks were big.

Today, on the Glade, we had another kind of glimpse: a sudden rustling, and the brief sight of the backs of large yellow paws, disappearing in the long grass.

On towards evening, on towards morning.

In the sense that a poem alters consciousness, it is indeed a spell. But in another sense, it is quite the opposite of a spell. A poem can alter consciousness back to its natural state, prior to patterning. In this way, it is a spell-breaker.

(Kim Rosen)

Real security is not only being able to tolerate mystery, complexity, ambiguity, but hungering for them and only trusting a situation where they are present.

(Eve Ensler)

A day of sitting still,

and many sparrows

taking flight.

The Zuni woman

carried on

in long vowels

of dust and light.