The Pipes of Pan: Before the Eclipse, 4/7/2024

The house finch dipped into powdered rouge

touching up his head and chest,

that sexy stripe between his folded wings.

The goldfinch leaves his nest

half-dressed, molting from olive to gold-

spring summons love for the ladies.

Geese zoom in for splash landings,

raucusing amongst themselves,

raising cane in joyful havoc.

The pipes of Pan haunt

in wild and mysterious keys.

Called out of darkness,

through all seasons,

ears attuned for Love,

we fly and make a joyful noise,

ascending from note to note,

to unlock the vault of the sun.

In 1968 Richard and I saw a partial eclipse of the sun when we were freshman at Emerson College in Boston. I no longer remember how we ‘saw’ the event but I do remember the awesome feeling of standing on the street with hundreds of strangers in a hushed moment. The city paused and held its breath as relative darkness washed over us in a primal revelation of how much we depend on the sun for light and warmth and life on Earth. How small we are in the cosmic alignment of star, moon, and planet.

Living where I do in Northeast Ohio, we are in the direct transit line of this current event. And, living in northeast Ohio as I do, it will likely be at least partly cloudy as the local forecast says. Nonetheless, our whole community has been issued viewing glasses and many families have reserved a local place to stay and to visit their loved ones at the same time. There is a real buzz of excitement that is catching and joyful in anticipation for the entire afternoon’s careful preparations for one and all.

Darkness and light, moon and sun, earth and all of its inhabitants, we breathe and live together invisibly connected through the stream of life. Spring erupts around us in myriad delightful ways. May we all be fortunate enough to be touched by the inevitability of growth and give thanks at least several times every day for the diverse gifts that abound.