A season isn’t something that befalls you, it is something that you inhabit.
—John Berger, The Seasons in Quincy: Four Portraits of John Berger
habitation
in the fulness of time they hit the road
when the days were accomplished
they stayed a couple of nights
then they went back home
when the king got angry
they fled for their liveswhen the boy was twelve
they went to the temple
every move of the Spirit
meant a change of address
foxes have holes, he would say
later, but I don’t have a homeeven as he inhabited every room
he ever entered as though
he had nowhere else to be
the wind is pushing against
the house like an invitation
to inhabit the disquietudeand not settle for a season
that is something other
than a full contact nativity
once the child is born
we’re going to need a bigger
place with room for everyone
Peace,
Milton
… with room for everyone. Amen.
Thank you.
You put to words my deep quiet in this season.
Thank you. And the wind is blowing