Then one morning it was done,
the cloud cover complete
except for a peep hole in the east
with a few rays to remind us
the sun would still be here
when winter had run its course.
The sea became a beautiful gray,
the forest floor damp and musty
with mushrooms growing in near-light
as the earth tugged us gently
back into timeless sleep.
There we could dream and forgive
and build bridges beyond,
bridges that only emerge
from the deepest dark.
Oh man, you are deep into coastal dreamtime lately, I’m glad to see. Images, images, images, that’s The One True Way!
Beautiful. The darkness from which comes the gifts of the invisible. Reminds me of Rilke’s “You, Darkness,” from his Book of Hours.
I love the journey into the deep, creative rest that is winter. All is born in that quiet sleep. Beautiful poem, my wonderful word-meister!
Yummy,Don….I can taste the mist and feel the bridges that my soul builds….and the picture beckons us with a visual compliment…
Going within to Forgive… ah yes! Forgiveness comes from Love and I must Love myself in order to Forgive myself and all others.
breathe deep the gathering gloom,
season next will bring new bloom.
(now you got me going…). Thanks much, Don
Thanks, Don, for drawing attention to nature’s revelation of our Earthly home.