Christ says Ephphatha

 An invitation. 

                          Fresh reality. 

                                                  Healing.

Wide wood. Tin box. Song frost

Hare, the footprints of a hare in the snow, as we go. As we go following footprints in snow. A glimmer of being a hare. Harelike in snow we are. To be a hare, the world getting brighter to us. 

In a hut on a hill above trailing riverbed. On the bend of a river. On the bend of river, perched on a hill in owl song and frost light we sing and give thanks. 

That flicker flame. 

The flames flickering 

flickering in love with the stars

of the lit night

Watching smoke rise, rising with the shadows. The fire does burn, fire burns, stove glows and the flame flickers. A joy to itself and for our eyes and for these hearts. A fire glowing as we sing, as we play the Mandolin. 

Now we are coffee and pancakes and to dreaming 

Long life in the forest with the hares

with owls among the night

among each night and seasons and each dawn

crystal, song and heartwood

nightjar. Pub togetherness

the intimacy of simplicity

and wide open views

We could continue the enjoyment with bread

and go to the top 

Get high on a walk, glory in the bright of the day

Sweat, talk pause and be hushed 

usher in silence 

It is pretty naked, to be nearly wild

Flow on in time

somehow forward comes from behind

or now while typing 

forward comes from within

Back to the view

Looking out of steamed up window

Blissed horizon

Linger on the view

Out of body

the bread be toasted