Ice forms at night and the old fear rises,
memory of dark and bitter cold,
feeling not death but survival
and all we did to stay alive
when life was only suffering;
men and women like iron,
the only sound wind and bitter voices.
Dawn spreads now from the east
come to replace the shadows,
thawing with a breath of new light
the kindness fear obscures,
the gift that really saw us through.

To learn the earth takes
a slow steady ponder, listening
to the sounds and silences,
especially the silences,
paying homage with attention
until something dark and unseen
breaks into awareness,
bursting like a mushroom
with the full throat of desire.

With sky clear and cold

the park populates again –

lovers side by side,

infants in their strollers,

the face of an elderly man

alight with recognition;

rain kept them away,

soaking the fallen leaves

and thankful soil,

dropping us into origin,

the mystery within the earth

our fingers will not grasp;

dark along the root,

her ancient song yet singing.

This day of January sun,
light, cloud and wind
tugging at the last oak leaves,
stubborn like my soul
with gathered treasure,
afraid to let go to the horizon
changing with the rhythm unseen
as it moves through the tall trees,
calling me into tomorrow.