May 7th is the Full Flower Moon. Temperatures are rising and we're feeling a bit of the blues. Seeds are planted, the sage is about to bloom, and we miss others dancing the music to life with us. The world around isn't as still and silent as it was a month ago, but fear still hangs heavy in the air. Even the birds seem to keep more distance.
I can't seem to move out of minor keys lately, and Hawk keeps circling back to thundering out a dirge. Sometimes the timing suddenly shifts. Melts. Hawk is dancing, or a joy sweeps through my fingers, and a melody pops out of the dissonance. The sour notes, the in betweens, are all part of it. Undiscarded and woven in.
We feel a song on it's way to us. Until then, we'll bounce and weave the notes, some jarring, some gelling. Every day now, there's a few more moments of light.