Touch grace and Be Blessed

Touch grace and Be Blessed
*
*
In closing moments of late year light,
clouds sinking afire into horizon’s shore,
visions shielded by day from instinct’s sight
fading into pre-sleep’s grey
this resplendent night, under glory
*
Beneath encircling sky, snow bright,
sparkle of lights over open fields, meteorites to wish upon.
Snowflakes twinkle, lightly, winter is falling.
White lace rolls
down  hillside.
Breath clear crystal cold,
warmed by deep blood flow,
free in a world alive
*
Taste fresh flurries, festive, blurry, fun.
Imbuing, with good will well begun,
the joy of being.
Hillock play, a school on holiday.
Swirls of mystery invite hot drinks,
warming tales.
Wonders of will,
wild like the sweet blaze
of intensity.
Fire to carry, light the path
of truth in darkness.
*
A very long time ago, on a cold and windy winter night,
a friend told me: open up to the cold and feel it,
don’t resist — it is really warm.
On those nights when I remember and try, it is.
— Certainly there was frost, mesmerizing lace of snow.
Brisk movement, the kind that meditative walks through
streetlamp shadows demand, sufficiently bracing.
That Winter spanned several degrees of
latitude and longitude.
*
Turned into a shimmering poem —
   By firelight – light of the moon.
*
Close a solid door; enjoy the fire,
warm, reminiscent of
the peace we fight for.
May emergent light mark the way.
Cold is no foe, compels faster exercise,
rapid ride through broad expanse.
Arise to dark’s deep blessing.
Attuned to far light’s potent message.
Spirits imbue damp, fresh scent.
Words melt, evaporate, flavor brew
of ancient melodies, renewed
each follow of enchantment’s call.
*
Be at peace.
Breathe in frigid wind
to warm in secret private seasons.
Breathe out
a better world.
*
Caught in the wilds,
fresh breath a mist of spirits
in the wind,
dancing spinning
chill elegance into
prescient dreams, beyond question,
beyond desire.
Timeless.
Cold as death,
yet lively dancing,
snowflakes veiling vision
into clarity.
Coalescence of blessings
like merry fire sprites dancing warmth
into this Winter’s night.
*
*
Advertisements

Red Senate

Red Senate
!
 !
Remember, remember the 1st of December’s
betrayal by Congressional props.
The People have reason to charge them
with Treason,
but the Oligarchs own the cops.