Solstice

A moment awakened to darkness while tiny lights fill the branches on the pine outside. A moment inhaled in silence, the longest night. A burning match lights innumerable candles. We celebrate here the splendor of dark as a gift given beyond the light of day; toast the good cheer; bless the bountiful meal; view as a movie the glowing red coals in the last fire of the Solstice. Oh, winter night I do love you from the inside apart, from the ice on the window to the warmth of the car as goodbyes move slowly down Walnut Street.

February Rose

Now, this is the darkest, murkiest, somberest, coldest of all dawns.  There is a small songbird we hear every morning regardless of the color of the sky--a house finch, most likely--sweet sweet song. I remember a feeling I used to have in my heart. Like a secret, it was always there. A  sense of joy no matter what. And, I didn't have to think it there, or put it there, or work on mantras or affirmations. It, like the winter songbird, was there every day--no matter the weather of my life. I thought this was my personal companion--God, guardian angel or just a part of me, of being human. Now, it is a memory--just remembered. I do think it must still be--but forgotten. I think I can get it back by remembering how it felt in my heart. It is natural, it is real and not a dream--a spark of joy.

Early Spring

Well under

the black snow mountains

by the side of the street

covering the sidewalk

narrow nubs of green fingers are

seen along the edge of receding chaos.

We see them first the tips

then long narrow fingers

of daffodils. The sun of

early March holds

hope for growing things for

all breathing things for

all sentient beings

in this moment of

breath. Come

sunny day

we salute you

dance within you. We

greet our winterized neighbors as

doors open and

noses twitch and

lips turn up and

feet step out     again

into the world as we balance

on spots of concrete

the wet of melted snow.

Window Sitting

This is where I live with a good man who shovels lots of snow and presents me with a wood burning fire every wintry evening. We live here with Jane the Cat and Zoe the Border Collie. You can see the Clematis vines climbing the screen of the snowed in porch which validates that today we are, for the most part, socked in. Thank goodness for this winter weather which carries with it much needed moisture and a sense of normalcy. Bring out the soup pot, the broth and the root vegetables. Perhaps we'll make French bread the baking of which will warm up the chilly kitchen. And I will stay in to look out the window and note the variances of the tail end of this the second blizzard in two weeks. This morning the snow fell horizontally into drifts and through screens. This afternoon the air holds only snow mist that seems to cover all with a polish of silk thread.

Garage Art in Winter

We finally had a snowfall! The roses are dormant and the Downy Woodpeckers are meeting at the feeder. The paintings I finished on the side of the garage have not slid off but remain bright behind clouds of falling snow. This is the winter view of the poem I wrote a year ago when freezing temperatures were rare and not a snowflake fell. I have lightly edited the poem on the website at http://wordlayers.com/GarageArt.htm  and here is how it begins:

Slightly lightly we began to notice and
to speak of wildflowers growing
by the garage in the back garden
and placed lawn chairs there just right
for evening conversation.
   
In the waning warmth of September days
we painted those wildflowers
on the white stucco garage wall--
the celandine poppy and prairie aster
the primrose and purple coneflower.

Now in December we stand
at the kitchen window just right
for mid-day sunshine and
in silence watch as winter's light 
plays across the colors painted
when the flowers faded in the fall.

Winter Salad

Poetry of a winter salad = grapefruit oranges banana kiwi in layers each layer different from the one above or the one below with bananas the lowermost   of course   and   finally   gently mix and serve one large bowl with two forks    perfect for eating while listening to light Kansas City jazz   while in reality   watching ESPN with the person holding the second fork

Blizzards can be fun

Blizzards can be fun when you don't have to shovel the snow and you are the one who makes the dark hot coffee and someone dear makes the best wood burning fire you ever saw or felt the warmth of-- blizzards are definitely fun when everyone who goes to school gets two snow days in a row--even the professors and the librarians and the border collies get to play in the snow as long as their paws stay ice free--we did meet a hound dog puppy who was sporting new thermal boots one on each big paw and thought Zoe might appreciate two pairs of boots--blizzards can be fun when you have all that you need to stay warm and remember to give that good old coat to Goodwill--we will tell our great-grandchildren all about the Blizzard of 2011 as we remember our own childlike hearts full of wonder and joy.

Jackson County, MO
Blizzard Warning

Birds on the wire 
are taking off for
warmer places