Although there is no formal Small Stones challenge this year, it is something that I like to do as a kickoff to a new year of poems. This year, I am working through the book, 365 Days of Walking the Red Road, The Native American Path to Leading a Spiritual Life Every Day. Written by Terri Jean.
There’s something compelling to me about this simple approach to spirituality, and a lot of truth in its teachings. I’m hoping that each day’s short reading will inspire some images for me that might form a touchstone or two for the year ahead.
I didn’t post yesterday’s, so here it is along with this morning’s meditation:
Jan. 1 “What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow that runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.”—Crowfoot, Blackfoot Warrior and Orator, 1826-1890
Breathing Winter
Embed from Getty Images
In the moments that remain,
in the time for the running of shadows,
I will look this day for my own breath
in spaces between the flashes of light.
They dance upon the wall in shades
of what is still to come, and
while they’re dancing
I will sing my fear to rest.
CAS Jan. 1 2015
Embed from Getty Images
Jan. 2 Direction: North Season: Winter Colour: White
Last night snow spread its winter blanket
Now morning touches each roof, sets
ablaze a million tiny fires in the sun.
We know cold here in the North,
the long darkness, many grey days, but today
we are given golden light, the gift of sun.
Even on the hottest days of summer,
the North remembers winter’s cold white,
how the wind’s chill burns deep into the bone.
CAS Jan. 2 2015
Header Photo: Almonte, Ontario Winter. courtesy Norm Swaebe, photographer
Today’s reading is about having the kindness to guard one’s speech, to take care to injure no one. There wasn’t much more I could add to that, but there was a reference to the North and Waboose that seemed suited to dealing with today’s harsh weather.
Quillfyre 