The Bones of Winter

I have considered taking a pilgrimage and know several friends who walked the El Camino de Santiago. Internal journeys also interest me. In winter, the message from the earth is to go inward. The world is stripped bare. We see the bones with all their strength and fragility. It fills me with wonder.

My corn husk pilgrims are surrounded by winged beings. They remind me of the magic that exists in the world. There are other realms that we can only imagine. When we delve into a creative life, we touch on the mystery. This creative journey is not for a select few. We all have the potential and the longing for a deeper connection with ourselves and the world around us—to be seen.

it’s a little game I play

imagining myself as bird woman
chickadee skittering on frozen ground
brazen against the cold

some days a stellar jar
sharp eyes penetrating
the bird feeder

even a red headed woodpecker
chiselling its point
against sap crusted wood

could I be both
the coo of pigeon
clutched in sharp taloned hawk

or rise as a raven
above treeline
ascend mountain peaks

and as I take wing
with clear vision
see all that remains mired in mud