Pat Warner gathering St. John's Wort plants for the Seasons of the Soul St. John's Shield Herbal Flower Oil. This poem is printed with his permission.


St. John’s 2005


There is a field of Golden shadows

where the Soul hovers over the soul,

and the oblique Sun

is fixed all day

in late-afternoon angles.

This is no-time,

Dreamtime,

Chronos.

One day,

one day only of my year

may I drop into this place

unnoticed by any and all.

And as a traveler would

in a completely foreign land,

I lose track of the passage of time,

until at day’s end,

while my body tells a different story,

my Mind,

my Heart,

my Soul

having come back to where I live,

wonder where the hours fled,

indeed, stand confused

but strangely well fed.

 

 

Photos by Richard Katz

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