Christmas Gatha



I like being alone at Christmas;

the Winter Solstice.



In the early dark

I can feel the turn of the earth

beginning to circle back again

toward light and warmth.



In the cold quiet

I can hear things unfolding;

small unnoticed gifts

being slowly unwrapped.



In the grip of years

I can smell all my clocks burning;

life’s heart well-lit

in all the faces around the bonfire.



In the stealthy dawn

I can see past the world’s remotest edge;

the vivid border

where all the lost things have gone—



Gone utterly Beyond.


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