The equinox, which I name High Spring, is upon us.
To me, this is a happy time of innocence and play. A time for bright colors and candy and finally—finally—having light in the evenings and a sun warm enough to feel on my skin.
But today, I am so sad. So disturbed.
The white supremacist murder sprees at two mosques in New Zealand are simply sickening. That we have people so damaged, so filled with hatred in this world just breaks my heart.
Half light, half darkness. That’s the equinox.
And the world itself, it seems.
The extraordinary poet W.S. Merwyn died yesterday as well, after a long and productive life. In perhaps his most famous poem, “Thanks”, he reminds us of this, of the gratitude and the horror, better than ever I could.
in our directions
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you
we go on saying thank you thank you
dark though it is
And so I wish you the joy of the season, with the acknowledgement that the darkness comes, as well.
We sit, balanced on the knife edge of the year, before the long fall into light.