Catherine Rogan

a rabbit entered my dream like the sound of rain. you and I put flowers in each other's hair. .☽༊˚ in a shaded hideaway, we thrive, rewild and reconnect. dreams, art, souls, earth, child-like play. explore flower-freckled meadows like they are the first to ever exist, and so are you. time becomes lost in labyrinthine tunnels of spiraling jade ferns. the sisters pause, braid each other's long hair, feel the grass, the wind, the stars. the fiddleheads unwind, spring is the memory of my grandmother's orchids. the last freeze in the nebular green house; opaque film dusted across terracotta and geranium like angel feathers. rabbits are my fairies, my woodland friends who open portals between spirits and earth, life and death, creative realms. reconnect to a deeper self, those who craft home. joy in simply being. crisscrossing generations of women, doorways in and out of life, dreams, birth marks, scribbled childhood drawings, names, animal companions, rabbits reappear beyond my lifelines. ferns reclaim my forested childhood pittsburgh yard, adorn the home, mark graves of loved ones I feel strange connections to, yet never met. they sing gentleness, home, nostalgia, abundance, femininity, luck, and mystery: a mutual flourishing, recollection, delightful kindred spirits. welcome generosity to the garden thief, the call of the moon, magic of small omens. profoundness in your love letter to the earth, your love, your timeline returning to you. celebrate and reciprocate with open hands, for luck is overflowing. within final days, naked tenderness, humble gardens open air. profound rich memories carved of us --- emerald home reclaimed. moss grows a newly made bed. we are the sisters she longed for. close your eyes, take a deep breath, step on the soft dirt. return.



Keeper of the Garden


   

Keeper of the Garden


  

Keeper of the Garden


 

Keeper of the Garden