#3 winter solstice 2012

I have been so impressed by the strength of my volunteer calendula flowers as they keep blooming despite the cold nights. They are like yellow poems written in my withered garden. In today's Indian summer weather the fields immediately appeared more green as if spring were around the corner, instead of heralding the imminent shortest day.


Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky,
We fell them down and turn them into paper,
That we may record our emptiness.

--Kahlil Gibran



I would like to get closer to Kahlil Gibran's record of emptiness. Does his emptiness contain the golden blossoms of calendula? Is his emptiness as strong and deep as those yellow poems?

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