Small Stone -- January 29

Red Dragon, Earth Mama, you have brought your gifts -- today, all day, I was in the school of the Universe, I was at the feet of the Teacher, drinking in the message, that to me is new and old.

Sure, I've had this same feeling stomping in a mudpuddle -- age two, wearing nothing but a smile, or whirling and whirling on some star-dark night, drunk the freedom of a moment and a bit of song.

Today, one daughter moves house, bit by bit, in a pullcart to a train station and across a river on those tracks she'll follow back into her city again and again. I will myself there by her side, helping her with that load, but the miles distance us.

Here in these hills, I dance the vibration of the world higher and higher to keep her  in the palm of Mama's hand. I sing my song for my babies, old enough now to hold their own, but always my little girls with flashing eyes and mud-stomping feet, drinking in rare joy gifts in a drenching mountain rain.