Our dear friends and loyal guests sent this poem to me this morning. We have spent nearly a month back at the ranch and I can feel my soul waking up from a long winters nap in a Jackson winter. There are even a few butterflies already in Little Africa How To Regain Your Soul - William Stafford . Come down Canyon Creek trail on a summer afternoon that one place where the valley floor opens out. You will see the white butterflies. Because of the way shadows come off those vertical rocks in the west, there are shafts of sunlight hitting the river and a deep long purple gorge straight ahead. Put down your pack. Above, air sighs the pines. It was this way when Rome was clanging, when Troy was being built, when campfires lighted caves. The white butterflies dance by the thousands in the still sunshine. Suddenly, anything could happen to you. Your soul pulls toward the canyon and then shines back through the white wings to be you again.
Posted on: Tue, 27 May 2014 00:45:34 +0000
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