Another seasonal gateway, as the Sun crosses the equator from North to South—we call it Equinox and it holds much symbolism for creative exploration.
It’s the Autumn Equinox here in Scotland. On the same day a couple of years ago I felt a massive internal shift and I knew something big was happening, but just a few days before, I had been drawn to the ordinary, everyday experience of the season the Equinox welcomes and recorded it in a wee poem.
The poem fell out of my journal just this week and I think it has some merit. A reminder to stay with the ordinary, even as we take a step away from the everyday to go deeper, perhaps to find ourselves within the maelstrom of external circumstance, or the cosmic wonder of astronomical occurrence.
For who we are is a collection of everyday noticings, are we not? Surely, the meaning we derive in life can arise just as much from the rhythm of changing the duvet each spring and autumn, as the position of the Sun’s rays in relation to an imaginary line drawn on our planet?
It’s my understanding that we need to consider both the cosmic and the mundane to speak to the human experience—a body animated by breath and electric impulse, both. A being composed of clay and stardust. A mystery of consciousness.
Anyway, here is a poem of the everyday experience of being cosmically aware.
I’ve recorded the telling of it, and included the text, to help with the understanding of the Scots.
The Turning
The Turning
Foggy puffs o breath intae
a sky o watery blue,
dewdrop webs glisten, canopies tae the secret world of the Wee Folk.
Only three plums left,
wan batch o juicy brambles,
rosehip itchycoos, bright and jolly in the hedge and the ivy’s just getting goin.
We’ve aiples coming oot wur ears,
shaggy inkcap dissolves intae words yet tae come.
The Equinox approaches as a meteor streaks across the nicht.
Barefit cauld on porcelain
oor hands clutch cool metal haundles atween rooms,
it’s time tae change the duvet again.
Beautiful. You painted a picture with your words, so vivid. Your voice is so sweet. Although I have to admit I’m glad that the words were written and I could read along with your voice, I might not have understood the poem so clearly otherwise, so thank you. I shall listen again..
Thank you for sharing this lovely poem! I agree with Janet, it was good to listen and read along as well! I think you may have inspired me to attempt to try a poem! As I am reading and listening to your poem, it’s early morning and I’m sitting outside with my cuppa tea. It is chilly and the sun, low in the sky is making the dew drops sparkle, chickadees are singing and also a crow! There is inspiration here! Thank you, Julie!!
Many thanks, Julie!
The rituals and blessings of the mundane… for my mind and spirit
Like a gift of gravity
So, beautiful . . . I could feel your words expressing the presence of Nature in her many voices through you.
Beautiful and inspiring Julie. Thank you.
As always, everything you create: the words written on this webpage, your personal writing, the sound of your voice, your shared message/knowledge or your art is filled with such beauty and a quiet, loving energy/intent, sent out into the world as a gift. Thank you Julie
this is a very beautiful poem Julie 🙂
So inspiring, thanks for your poetry and your communication to the world
Love it! Thankyou for sharing your poem and the wonderful sound of your voice. I yav oaready changed oar t ar big doovay (Yorkshire here )
Many Blessings for the season
canopies to the secret world of the weee folk – and the last line about the duvet — it all landed, Julie. Your voice, your presence in this world, is a gift. thank you for sharing your poem, great title too.