Smoke rises through brick and clay
into a grey morning
the color of frost.
Ice layers the streets,
cold penetrates into our nest
beside the gas fire.
It takes more than flame
to keep the weight of winter
off a fearful heart,
to stand like old trees
faced into the wind,
swaying from depth of root.
What comes looms shadow-like
over bright aspiration,
the inevitability of glacier
against our stick-built domain.
Let what will not hold
dissolve into the grey sky,
what will break go down
maple soft under winter’s weight.
Rivers resist the freeze
because they flow.
Another ‘lovely’ one. Thank you.
Love the last line Don – aliveness is movement! Flow with ease and grace embracing the mystery of death and rebirth.
No gas fire here. When the flames in my stove wrestle with the wood they make this lovely crackling noise. Transformation is inevitable. Thank you Don!
Great Wisdom, Insight and Sharing, Don.
Thank you, Don. Now, in deepest Winter, the headwater rivers move in secrecy as the ice builds from shore to shore—even while distant seas increase temperature, warning of change.
Don–you focus flow…
a perfect one
Let that which will not hold….dissolve…a wonderful image…