In the last days of December
low clouds move slowly
through shades of grey,
the soft beauty
of a northwest morning
after days of rain.
Earth wet and breathing,
evergreens stretch their roots
as birds circle in the cold air.
I’m glad to sit by the fire,
wearing the darkness
like an old hooded sweatshirt,
worn soft in just the right places,
warm enough for winter.
A beautiful image and feeling, thank you Don
Elegant Don, Taking Time and space to feel the inner fires of inspiration
Don, I have been wearing the darkness like a cloak of blessing.
I Feel the blanket of darkness lightening in your words.
See, Don? Winters in South Bend prepared you for the mastery of the season.
Figel is right. I learned enough about the downside of winter in my five or so years in South Bend to last me a lifetime. I went straight from icky Indiana to sunny Arizona.
sitting with you, clothed in this grand darkness and in the presence of these towering elders, now softly worn in all the right places, one finally learns to dress for the occasion – as you say so elegantly here Don – great thanks
Reading you brought to mind this quote from an article I recently read: “I find my deepest conviction and connection to the Earth by communing with the mountains. I moved to Colorado and lived among them when I was in my early 20s, and it was there I began to deepen my relationship with them, and to really listen to them. I would hike out and just sit among the peaks, watching them for hours, and write about them in my journal. Today I know in my bones that my job is to learn to listen to them ever more deeply, and to share what they are telling us with those who are also listening.”
It is heartening that more and more I see, hear, and witness from those whose connection to nature is deepening, reaching mystical fonts of quiet knowing.