Today is 12.19.16.1.17 5 Kaban 0 K’ayab

1403 shopping days until 13.0.0.0.0 4 Ahau 3 K’ank’in.

twig_w_buds_braden_park1

That looks painful.

Spring is not here, but it is coming. Soon, here in Tulsa, the Redbuds (aka Judas Trees) will bloom. Actually, the little flowers of Redbuds are closer to magenta or fuschia than the color of blood, but they still shock the eye and do violence to a winterized brain. The joy of spring begins in pain, like the phantom pain in a lost limb, except the limb grows back. Spring comes on us like Jesus came to Lazarus–Rise, and walk. Did you ever think how painful resurrection must be?

The sight of the first crocus pushing up through the litter of soil by the front walk stabs my heart like a long fermata in Bach as played by Glenn Gould.  I am the filament, the world is the flashbulb. But the weather of the world is unsettled.

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5 responses to “Today is 12.19.16.1.17 5 Kaban 0 K’ayab

  1. “April is the cruelest month…”

  2. Pingback: Via Negativa

  3. Yes. Except it’s February. The trees are already budding, the crocuses are blooming, the jonquils and tulips can’t be far behind…

  4. You cause me to consider that while i have commented on death, and on resurrection as
    fait accompli, no thoughts on the successful agony of rebudding come to mind.

  5. The Glenn Goulds are coming up brave and strong around here. Daffodils too. I’m hearing the Goldbergs.

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