beltane amy adaptability happy fertility to you! 130501 ... ovenbird We sit poised at the mid point between the spring equinox and the summer solstice--we pause before tipping all the way over into the light. When I was sixteen I danced ribbons around a maypole, laughing, singing, letting a drum beat stand in for my own heart. I can remember the way the sun tangled in the braid we wove and I felt, for a brief moment, a soaring sense of freedom. So many years later I give the spring my tender heart--let it catch in the brambles where the robins might find it and take it away to line their nests. I throw open the windows on everything I am, let bumblebees kiss me softly with their tiny wings that should not be able to hold them aloft. I can feel all the sap running in my veins. I dance ribbons into a story that insists on being told. In the afternoon I bump into the words of Leonard Cohen who says, "never question where love comes from. We have no control over these things. From a stranger, a mother, a dog, or that perfect mate, it comes from wherever it comes." I bow my head, wreathed in May flowers. "Alright, I hear you," I whisper to the universe. And the ginkgo tree in the front yard is suddenly all in leaf as if no other future was possible. 250501 what's it to you? who go blather from