*
*
First the silence before sunrise
frost and breath clouds
dog bark and cat’s eyes
the new day inhales
*
Notes of boiling kettle
hiss of swirling steam
spoon of metal
scrapes ceramic bowl
*
Chant of a prayer
velvet solitude
curled in a chair
rain taps the glass
When the egg balances on its end
When the dark eats the light
When we retreat into our beds early
with hot water bottles at our feet,
it’s time for the dive into solitude,
the reflection on the year’s solutions,
the rhythm of the solstice
in the quiet cold dark. Solemn,
we take out our needles, the raveled silk,
and stitch our souls back together.
Tangled Magic 