Now the sun’s reached the high noon of the year.
Spring’s frantic work of sprouting and leafing out, setting seed and bearing young is finished. The fruit is set and ripening; the flags of May are furled.
Through these soft, long-light June days it’s as if the earth and all its spirits and beings pause, sigh long and deep, proclaim the world is good.
If a man had awakened with the earth in April, he’d have tilled his ground and sown his seed. If he’d battled the wind, the weeds and cold, if he’d kept his faith and done his part, he too can relax for a moment, lie quiet, face to the sun, in a gentle place as well.
