Thick and gray
the clouds of winter
break open on
the ides of March.
The threshold of hope
bringing reason for faith
while discontent
yet plagues the restless.
Roots of the ancient forest
stir beneath paved streets,
life older than imagination
come to resolve our sorrow.
Within the hardest hearts
there is the sound of water
as red buds of spring
fill the flowering plum,
turning eyes of the awakened
east to rising light.

Reading of “Eyes of the Awakened” with music by The Chieftains.

I feel the snow falling.
I see it under street lights
beyond the window glass,
but here beside the fire
I can feel it.
The blanket spreads
muffling the city sounds
to where the snow
might shape us
into the silence
where all songs begin.

Reading of “Shaped by Snow” with music by Tinariwen

No translation needed
for the language of the heart.
Age doesn’t matter, only innocence
and desire for the timeless.
You thought I was left behind
but actually I skipped ahead,
speaking the language
of the pure in heart,
no translation needed.

painting from Chakra series by Eilish Strawberry Hynes
“Yellow – solar plexus – I do”

Reading of “Skipping Ahead” with music by Lil Yachty

Gnarled bark and twisted branches
tangle in the gray sky.
I lose touch with the turning,
the language of wind in the trees.
When we rode in tall grass
the earth was all we knew.
Now I pray upon a wooden altar
that the sun may rise and shine upon the people.

My clothes are soaked in forgiveness
that my family be unharmed.
I have not loved enough
but there’s still time.
I scrawl these words on ragged cloth,
sending them far on the wings of crow.
May they reach you in these dark hours
while we keep faith toward dawn.

photograph by Albion Butters

Reading of “In These Dark Hours” with music by State Symphony Capella of Russia

This is my world, and yours,
just as we created it,
sentient and wild.
Brambly thorns,
shifting tides,
hard-as-nails streets,
beguiling lovers,
all of it just as it is.
Her only desire
that we road weary pilgrims
throw our arms around her
and whisper in her ear
yes!

photograph by Anita Albright

Reading of “Her Desire” with music by John Coltrane

Winter sun lights the valley.
Along the coast a flood of rivers,
swollen bays, log-choked coves,
melting snow and full moon tides.
At rest in the quiet
without hunger or thirst,
the land teaches silence is enough
for a rivulet of dark green solitude
to nourish the earth.

photograph by sandybrownjensen.com

Reading of “Dark Green Solitude” with music by Adele

Hours before dawn
hard rain soaks the streets,
in the distance
the outline of trees
buffeted by winter winds.
Though quiet in this room
I feel the world’s unrest.
Deceit sits astride our fate;
the clever regarded as saviors.
I can’t stand rigid
before these winds,
rather keep faith
and sway in the dark night,
for as I bend
I will not break.
On the horizon
the first gray light,
hours away
the coming dawn.

Reading of “As I Bend” with music by Bob Dylan

And so we gather in winter dark
lattice strong with sacred life
as earth drums sound
the heartbeat of creation.
Pulse to pulse
we move in ritual,
tracing out ancient footings.
We set round pillars
to bear the world’s sorrow
and roof beams
composed of praise.
Mighty the forgotten temple
that holds the prayers
of heaven’s legion,
holy the gathered people
who honor the Maker
of hummingbird and tree.

photograph by Moira McRae

Reading of “Forgotten Temple” with music by Bill Evans.

When dark gives way to day
and the city stirs
with the sound of machines,
I pause and take inventory.
Considering the peace I foster
and the good fight
that has its rewards,
I ponder my stream
in the river of life.
Troubles are the rocks
by which the river sings,
the pebbles of my years
adding to the joy and sorrow,
the poignant music
flowing in these winter days
to the gathering sea.

Reading of “Troubles are the Rocks” with music by the Celtic & Irish Folk Wanderers

There are things I want to give you
that I forget at the sight of your handsome face,
so mature yet tender to the world that’s coming.
No one can spare you heartbreak
or bring the joy that you deserve
so I sit here with my empty bowl,
filling it slowly, drop by drop,
for the days when you will thirst.

photograph by Louis MacKenzie

Reading of “Empty Bowl” with music by Andrey Korolev