tea and memories

I’m so grateful for the time someone spent with me this afternoon – so patient – listening to my story – suggesting – clarifying – helping me to write my mihi – and more deeply – to connect with and claim my mihi as my own.

I came home – and stopped in front of this kawakawa bush – I was thinking about it yesterday and I knew the best thing would be to make tea from its leaves and let the past settle while I waited for it to steep.

I sit now with my tongue tingling along with my heart.

footprints

(and in the meantime – imagine a photograph of bird footprints…I’m working on it)

I feel thoughts circling
words waiting to be touched
the birds waiting to land
who have always been with me
just out of sight
only approaching from the side
when I’m looking ahead
or looking back
or when I’m still
eyes closed, mind open, listening
then they come

black birds of the imagination
bones bleached white in memory
feathers full of dreams
songs and claws and tails and wings

they strut and hop across the page
leaving spiky footprints, unbound symbols
runes of divine connection

or gently, they lower one wing
to deceive, or to start over
brushing the page clean

sometimes, they are so sure of their song
they stab with their beak
straight through, and pin it to the page

all I can ever do
is trace a line from the edge of one footprint to the next
and trust in the story
they want told

©clairegriffin2017

a red list

tomato /         blood / sunset / stop

cherry /          tamarillo / steak 

raspberry /    strawberry / pomegranate / plum

my hand-woven scarf / an unworn skirt / a pre-loved coat

ruby /             garnet / carnelian

lips /               cheeks / tongue

passion /        anger / embarrassment

fire /               wine / revolution

 

daily prompt – make a list of things that are red – from Sarah Selecky
https://www.storyisastateofmind.com/

©clairegriffin2017

August

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watch the sea
waves keep coming, waves keep breaking
in all this change is constancy

I’ve been reminded of change lately – the passing of seasons, the rhythms of life. The fact that nothing lasts forever, but our memories hold our dear ones close.

Going out in the garden today it was heartening to see fresh green growth, and new flowers, even though we’re still in the midst of winter.

And my old cat is seeking warmth, a blanket, a knee, and today, a sunny corner of the couch. She is sleeping her days away – I hope her dreams are sweet.

the scent of silver

a band of pale grey wraps around my wrist
a band that moves and glows with life
shimmering, twisting, sliding down
against the bones of my hand

when turned between fingers and thumb
the metal warms, the light brightens
and I shift sideways
and all is light and warm
and time is younger
and skin is softer

the band of silver sings
and I am filled with the scent
of winter frost on southern thyme
and summer-dry grass beside the lake
and your hair freshly washed
and raspberries crushed between your fingers

 

daily prompt – describe the scent of silver – from Sarah Selecky https://www.storyisastateofmind.com/

I love these prompts, although I’m never organised enough
to work on them daily as is intended.
They trigger all sorts of associations and memories and ideas
that are unexpected, and usually welcome.

©clairegriffin2017

faces

Just the other day I was thinking about faces – and how its as if some faces are “pre-loaded”, embedded in our subconscious, encoded in our psyches – faces and features we are primed to respond to. Is it due to genetic memory, a shared cultural heritage, an unconscious connection to a dream state or a past life?

All I know is that for me – some faces are irresistible, magnetic … and if I was to meet this face in real life I would be defenceless (and have been – once).

Maybe that’s what love at first sight is – the moment when we see the face that has been waiting to be recognised.

 

 

 

dreams of – caring and doorways and disguises

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what does it mean when:

  • you dream of spending a day taking care of a sheep?

A sheep that looked more like a brindle-coloured pit bull – but was definitely a sheep – or really more of a lamb.

It seemed this lamb wasn’t going to have much of a future (perhaps blind, disabled?) and somehow it was at my workplace (which looked nothing like my real one). I spent a lot of my time carrying it around – left arm holding it close.

Having left work at the end of the day, I felt the need to go back and check on it. I unlocked a heavy wooden exterior door, and discovered I couldn’t re-lock it from the inside. This caused a little concern, but I continued, entered the office, and the lamb came running toward me.

I checked it was fed and watered and had a cosy place to sleep – then – either the dream or my memory of it, faded away.

thoughts:

  • some things are not what they seem
  • the need to care overcomes fear
  • what is opened cannot be closed