She seems like a woman about to give birth, she is bearing a mysterious universe, How powerful she is, back arched, she was made for carrying this, and for letting it become, and letting it go. All her energy and strength is focused, centered, on this necessary transformation.
Very cold. And the river is bearing ice, and the brook and wetlands can support my weight, again, so I glide across the glassy surface in my boots looking at the shapes in the ice. I am looking for an image that speaks to me today.
I’m thinking about transitions. Preparing. Not packing, we still have two weeks here. But I am beginning to imagine not being here for two months. To walking the beach, every day, not the frozen woods. To learning to live in a different landscape, a different, state. I remember the summer day we made this decision. We were in the car, driving to Western Massachusetts for a poetry event. My husband was on the phone, we had talked about this, and needed to give our answer to the person on the phone. We looked at each other. Yes or no? Yes. And, now it’s here, the time to get ready to go away for two months. I haven’t left, but I begin to miss everyone and everything here. And yet I’m excited about the discoveries change brings. I am in the cold, the icy air, the icy surface of this overflowing brook, arching my back for change.
