Writings in Litchfield
Poetry by Jean Aloe after returning from one of my  women's retreats at Wisdom House, Litchfield Ct. 

- 1-

it’s dour outside
overhead
a scarf of gray
unwinds itself
the oaks and maples
struggle to bud
even the doves
are silent….yet
beneath my feet
a lone tulip lifts
its yellow face to mine –
I smile back

- 2-

we come together
like pieces of a puzzle
scattered on the floor
patiently a hand places
each of us
where we belong
here….right here
a whole picture forms

- 3-

my feet planted firmly
sprout green roots
my heart unfolds
pastel petals
my hands strong vines
covered with blue wishes
I am woman – golden

- 4-

unannounced
my spirit guide
comes shrouded
in a long dark cloak
with trepidation
I rise and face her
she calls to me
Sangin – sister
astounded I search her face
Mira? I query
Yes she answers
I am she –your mirrored self