The Octogram of Joy

This is a very, very late post. But after our session I was filled with a flurry of joy making activities; Christmas crafting (masked indoors, and very well spaced), foraging for holly and ivy, weaving willow into a wreath, writing cards, wrapping parcels, mailing both, decking the house out with more and more strings of light. And then the husband and I spent a mild morning putting Christmas lights onto the new garden shed. The shed is a major delight of this pandemic year and was facilitated by our new neighbour, which makes it all the more sweet. Joy is, as I often think, found in the small details that then expand, growing larger and larger. At any rate, I have been wearing a foolish grin all week. The cherry on the sundae of the week was a brief visit from a young relative with her new beau. Even with windows open and masked pandemic hugs it almost felt like Christmas and was certain cause for joy.

Needless to say, blogging and other writing has been left to the weekend.

The Weekly Poem, and a source of joy and amusement, is inspired by the backwash from Storm Barra.

Shelter

Here I am Sunday morning, bathrobed and slippered,
padding outdoors in a midwinter
charcoal drawn dawn

bearing breakfast for the boarders
who blew in on Storm Barra's
Big Wind

a young mum and her kitten
sheltering here, emerging after the storm
feather light, hungry

volubly so,
pathetically pleading
meow - ow- ow-ing so...

Squatting in our cat kennel
on old Guardians and straw
clearly stating

the obvious, the necessary answer.
With cats, as with humans
community is no easy task.

We need two more like the proverbial no less.
We chip away with milk and meat though,
lecturing on fellowship

that we serve up with treats -
for our own sakes
as much as theirs.

Doorsteps 
are good places
to start giving.

Shelters
may
lead you home.

I know that this Sunday is for peace. But the joy was so overflowing I had to share even if belated.

We are having our last session of Writing the Light in the Season of Darkness today and this group – including Canadians, an American, a Yorkshire woman, and Cavan and Leitrim Irish residents – has been a wonderful opportunity to develop soul friendships. In Ireland we call that Anam Cara. I am blessed with so many soul friends. They are a great source of joy and buoyancy for which I am very grateful.