July

a little of madness, a little of wisdom

spin the compass in the midst of winter

a wild circling, a dance that keeps your heart awake

July – midwinter – sitting on one of the turning points of the year and feeling both the pull to go out into the dark, the cold, and the desire to keep warm and safe.

And realising that sitting in between these points achieves nothing.

There are choices to be made, risks to be taken.

Sometimes we need to use a tool to give us direction, and sometimes we need to be prepared to feel a little vulnerable, a little reckless.

It all keeps the blood pumping rich and hot, even if our breath and fingertips are freezing.

June

deepen your shadows,

rich histories beckon as we go into the dark,

slow mysteries in the undergrowth,

bright eyes watching

.

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June – the start of winter.

Time to reflect and remember- to open our inner selves to the dark while we shelter and keep our bodies warm.

Time to notice the life that continues all around us, though it might slow and withdraw into the shadows.

Time to check the mirror for our own reflection, to notice our own bright eyes looking back.

May 2019

release the lost ones

shelter those come home

clear a path, light a candle, set the table, close the door

The start of winter, days are shorter, nights becoming long and dark. This is a time to release the past, the people and places we’ve moved on from, or those who have left us. It’s a time to hold close the special ones who enter the circle of light that shines from our doorway out into the darkness. It’s a time to keep warm, to feed the soul, to rest.

April 2019

IMG_2644

bright jewels fall
from your fingers, paint the ground
in colours from a royal palette – amber, ruby, amethyst

Its taken a long time for autumn to start making her self felt, but the last few weeks have had a chilly nip in the air, and the daylight hours are getting shorter.

Many of our New Zealand trees are evergreen, and our winters are often more richly green than in the summer. But we have many exotic trees as well, and the contrast makes their fallen leaves and bare branches even more special.

February 2019

filling the space,

every window shows your face,

your multitudes, your bright insistence

February calendar post at last!!

Why has it taken so long – no idea – beyond printer not working, going back to work after summer holiday, and putting my time into painting.

Anyway – here ‘tis. This is my world, my green view – this is what I see if I feel like a spot of daydreaming.

And now that the cicadas have come out in force at last, I wonder if a big shiny insect might have been a better image. Still – they need the trees and trust me – they are all over these.

veriditas

veriditas

green hands
hold the sky, shelter the land
dance in the half-light, verdant choreography

filling the space
every window shows your face
your multitudes, your bright insistence

the falling begins
the withdrawal, the sheltering
hold life close to your heart and release the past

bright jewels fall
from your fingers, painting the ground
colours from a royal palette – amber, ruby, amethyst

release the lost ones
shelter those come home
clear a path, light a candle, set the table, close the door

deepen your shadows
rich histories beckon as we go into the dark
slow mysteries in the undergrowth, bright eyes watching

a little madness, a little wisdom
spin the compass in the midst of winter
a wild circling, a dance that keeps your heart awake

there is beauty in your ravaged body
and shelter still between your naked arms
not barren, only sleeping; not alone, the night birds are watching

awaken, unfold, arise
bathe in sunlight and transform it
green energy ebbs and flows in your veins

waking slowly, you smile
and colour bursts across the hillsides
fat, furry bees investigate your sleeves

standing tall
arms heavy with flowers
you reach for the earth and greet the sky

walk the green labyrinth
end the year at the beginning
follow root and stem to the source

veriditas

Unlike other years, when I’ve spent these weeks before the end of December putting together my calendar for the following year, this time I’ve started with and completed the text first.
Previously, I’ve chosen the photos that “spoke” to me, and then recorded their message. This time, I started gathering photos and realised I was choosing pictures of trees, and that there was a voice coming even though I didn’t have all the photos yet.
So I decided to let the voice speak, and I’ll revisit my selection and find or take new photos as required.

These verses begin with January and work their way to December. For those of you in the northern hemisphere, this might make more sense if you start in the middle.

And – veriditas – one of the three “v” words that have both well and truly settled into me and become a form of expression. I’ll post some work on the others in the new year.

©clairegriffin2018

December

at the end of this year

there are new beginnings

we look forward …

We’ve had sunshine today, and rain, and thunder – and now the sun is out again. Reminding me that all things change, seasons pass, years too.

December is my my birth month – I always loved it as a child. It’s the month that held my birthday, the end of school for the year, the start of the long summer holiday, and Christmas. I remember hearing Santa’s reindeer on the roof once when I was about seven. I was absolutely sure of it. Now I think it could have been the Deer Mother and her kin.

Now this Sagittarian is thinking about the coming year – pulling back on the bow – wondering where to direct my attention – patient and strong enough to wait and hold – until I’m ready to release the arrow.