"The Sky's Sheets"

The Sky's Sheets
by Teresa of Avila (1515-1582)

When He touches me I clutch the sky's sheets,
the way other
lovers
do

the earth's weave
of clay.

Any real ecstasy is a sign
you are moving
in the right
direction,

don't let any prude tell
you otherwise.

—translated by Daniel Ladinsky
Love Poems from God:
Twelve Sacred Voices from the East and West
(contributed by Wendiferous)

And so it is.

Blessèd Be.

I love you, Jim

James Urban Gleaton, Jr.
and
Michael Austin Shell

Marriage Under the Care of Columbia Monthly Meeting
of the Religious Society of Friends

Saturday, December 17, 1994
Saturnalia
Full Oak Moon

And so it is.

Blessèd Be.

"I am not making this up"

Walhydra's work colleague and buddy Trapdoor Spider has a sister who lives in Venice and works as a freelance journalist for publications such as National Geographic.

Today, Trapdoor reminded Walhydra that her sister has a blog with delightful name of I am not making this up.

Yesterday's post is a beautiful little piece about calicanthus blossoms in the midst of winter.

What caught Walhydra's attention was the shared experience of living in "Upstate New York, where winter comes with multiple personalities, most of whom are not in the mood for jokes."

Yep.

And a beautiful line later in the post:

"Winter doesn’t smell like chiffon steeped in sunrise; winter smells like a constructivist experiment, all angles and sharp points and edges."

Nice.