Dear Yvonne❤️, as always, your voice is delectable… Playful & so gentle. I feel as though we were there together!
We got up together, looked outside , saw the blue sky, & went out in our bare feet to see the day. ☀️ We walked , feet soaked by morning dew, bits of grass sticking to them. We went out and sat on the picnic table, gazed at the mountains, and the vegetable garden, watched the birds fly , heard them chatter and sing There was such a sense of joy in the air. I had experienced a first satori-- an awakening-- the year before. At 15, I was suddenly aware of the unity of all living things, of flowing forth from the stars to our life as humans, and back again. I think I had always been aware of it, certainly as a child. As one grows up , the magical vision of childhood falls away. But now, through different kinds of meditation, and living more fully, I had remembered that unity. .. So we sat on the picnic table, Yvonne❤️, and then we walked up to the Knoll, where there is one single pine tree, and where my brother and I had played. Now we looked into the sky from east to west, and felt the summer breeze blowing on our faces. August in Vermont is so special because soon autumn will come with glorious colors, then the long winter . But for this moment we saw the sunflowers blooming, and on our way back to the old farmhouse, we saw , in the grass, a little snail shell lying white or gray against the leaves and the grass. I don't know whether it was a lIving snail, or an empty shell. It seemed to encompass the immense beauty of the universe that I was experiencing in a new way.
So Yvonne, we hugged each other and then went back to the farmhouse for some breakfast , which you probably knew how to make. Much love, my dear friend!
Thank you, and thank you, O listeners, thank you for listening to my youthful poem.
(I know this is long, but there is a PS. . We tacked the poem to the farmhouse, wall, and on Labor Day, 1966. A young man named Allen arrived to visit. He would live at Quarry Hill , with comings and goings, for about 35 years. He walked into the farmhouse, and saw "Snailshell" on the wall. He read it; his eyes widened, and he shouted, Who wrote THAT?!" 🐌🍃 He took the photograph that illustrates “Leaving Curtis Pond.”
🐌🐌🐌🐌 All my love and thanks to you , Yvonne ! 🌸🌹🥦🐸
💓💓💓💓💓💓🍃🍃💓 Love, peace and joy. All these years later, my philosophy is the same.So glad that I got to know you, Yvonne. Thank you everyone who leaves a review! Frank , thank you so much!
All my 🌟🩷🌟🩷
Love, and thanks again as ever Yvonne, July 2024. ❤️
