Can I expand my soul
That it unites itself
With cosmic Word received as seed?
I sense that I must find strength
To fashion worthily my soul
As fitting raiment for the spirit.
As we are in the mid-summer night's dream mode, I find myself moving through
my work with a mental dullness, knowing only that things must be done. Crops
sprayed, cows fed, manure picked up for compost. In my routines I daily see
the hanging yarrow bladders that remind me of other work yet to come. The
unearthing of the silica and the filling of horns for the humus remedy;
burial of the bladders, I must find chamomile to fill the intestines [i must
plant my own {haven't done that yet}]...sstorch
