… And under the trees, beyond time´s
I stood like Adam in his lonely garden
On that first morning, shaken out of
Rubbing his eyes, listening, parting the
Like tissue on some vast incredible gift.– Mary Oliver, Morning in a New Land
Mary Oliver, American poet and my soul mentor, crossed the threshold yesterday Between the Worlds. Sunset has some deeper meaning for me. I cannot quite grasp it or capture it in words. Not yet.
„What is worthy of the moments and sunrises ahead?“, I asked the old cherry tree in the vineyard. It did not blossom last year. Who else remembers the orgy of blossoms, wine, tears and goddess evocations it celebrated?