We are called to vision the new seeds to plant, seeds of thoughts in our psychic gardens, encouraged and supported by nature’s spring hymn.
You see her reflection shimmering in the waters of the still lake at dusk, and in the glow of the red harvest moon as it rises in a twilight sky. She sings with the evening song of the blackbird on the last day of the growing sun, and swims in the swirling undercurrents of the ebbing tide.
I’ll give myself over to the changing leaves and the cold winds and the shorter days, knowing that this external change is triggering a staggering internal change, just as it does year after year. There’s always the risk that I won’t emerge from my subterranean system of tunnels and catacombs. ...
There is change coming, sacrifice that needs to be made. This is not new, it’s been happening all year, but it’s not done. And it hasn’t demanded this much from you yet, so be ready.