Wow, it's been a busy few weeks. I've been travelling a lot for poetry events, gave the keynote poem for the launch of the Women's Poetry Timeline at the gorgeous National Museum of Women in the Arts in DC-and then spent a few days marching for peace with my mother on the eve of her 89th birthday...
But I got back in time for the annual Ostara egg hunt on the beach near our home.
Last year, we dyed with blueberries, onion skins, and turmeric and got beautiful natural colors that looked amazing nestled among the rocks; this year my daughter used dye from the supermarket and got wildly rich colors which also looked amazing nestled among the rocks. The new bunny, Pumpkin, had his first Easter, outside on a leash. And in our local chorus, we are learning to sing an original arrangement of Bob Marley's "Rastaman Vibration."
Yesterday, I felt exhausted after all of it, almost depressed, and then this morning, I woke up and I realized what all the heaviness was about--a poem wanting to be born. Out it popped, just like that.
Spring is more of a gift than I can ever remember to anticipate.
Happy Ostara, everyone!
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