04/05/2026
💚🙏✨🌿🐝🪽🍃
It is amazing to be a human. There is so much light. And there is so much density. (There is destiny in density) The sun, the bird song wilderness. Did you know that when the birds sing there are cells in the trees that open to receive our breath so that we can receive their breath? There are so many secrets in nature. It’s awesome and it’s miraculous and it never ceases to make me cry.
my name means resurrection. It’s a challenging name to carry. I recently was thinking about the gift of the name. And the gift of the names of mother line names and the father lines names, and thinking about the meaning of those names as cells in a tree of lifeline, and their cellular reminders about one’s threads of fate and destiny.
I also think about patterns and cycles and the different stories from the different cultures that bless the coming of spring through mythos, religion, and stories that specifically have to do with this shape of resurrection/life death life— Inanna,Persephone, Tammuz, Adonis, Osiris, Christ, fairytale characters who die and are reborn-and all of the flowers that rise up and shatter upon opening.
we are shattered all the time by the awe and the horror of creation and destruction, good and evil, the beast of life and death, and all the stories in between.
Light and dark is stirring the cauldron. Let us be like the bulbs awakening in the womb tomb of earth mama, rising. Or like the red poppy in Louise Gluck’s poem:
“The great thing
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
govern me. I have
a lord in heaven
called the sun, and open
for him, showing him
the fire of my own heart, fire
like his presence.
What could such glory be
if not a heart? Oh my brothers and sisters,
were you like me once, long ago,
before you were human? Did you
permit yourselves
to open once, who would never
open again? Because in truth
I am speaking now
the way you do. I speak
because I am shattered.”
Blessed awakening. Rising. Re-membering. Shattering. Opening. Truthing. Greening.
Words: Stasha Ginsburg
Artist: Jana Brike
Poem: Louise Gluck — red poppies
