All posts tagged: Winter

Breath Incarnate

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Reflections

Peace taken up by the flesh has a rhythm to it.  A field of frozen grass and falling snow, mixed with true inhabitants, will ripple with tongues of steam.  Life will move in and out of itself, and possibilities will disperse from their smoky origins, drift into the branches of trees at the field’s edge, and nestle into nooks beneath the boughs. We share a breath that’s always breathing– here and there and all at once– a […]

A Winter’s Meditation

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Creative

We had our first snow the day before yesterday—a sticky-heavy whiteness you could tamp into stable shapes—then a smattering more yesterday, and this morning I am witness to wonders I realize only now have been in the making for days.  The third act is the revelation.  Soft golden light pours sideways across the sky from a low-lying sun, and the second ridge is garnished with fog.  The air and the land are rising together, drawing […]

Keepers of the Promise

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Christ / Poetry

Snow tip-toes through the sunlight, falling in a dappled caress, a lingering sweetness, as the world bends around the corner. The passing season is saying its good-byes, asking to be thought of kindly for all that was and had to be. The blown kiss leaves the forest empty again, a landscape between tenants– a hallowed silence filled with the changing light. Who will come next? A caravan of deer march through this question in a […]

Clouds, Shaken

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Poetry

The distance, receding. The sky so full of feathers, it’s obvious the gods tore open the clouds, shook them out over the land, and tossed their empty skins in a pile by the river. We’re back in the Dreamtime. The cold has come alive, the sky become an arctic fire, her sparks fluttering in a swirling dizzy of ballerina embers, and the hawk’s vision is still again, flooding my skull, impaling my every thought, studying my […]

The Function of Fir Trees

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Poetry

A line of fir trees have taken up watch, wooden and resolute, their tips a Gaussian congregation of navy black steeples hung upon a night sky so clear and cold you remember what it’s like to open your door and venture out into an endless, moaning whistle that has frozen into place. The trees– they are like loaded questions, sentries of the borealis pantomiming secrets you can guess at if you pay attention to the way their […]

Open

comments 34
Poetry

A lawn bordered by backlit trees, and a sun pouring forth on the matters of this age. Such consistency in the face of my impromptu madness. The smattering of robins working through the yard understand exactly what the sun is saying. Their curious heads turn in silent clicks from one world to the next. Some have scruffy necks and perform shutter-speed calculations. They all have Open, upturned eyes. Open. I’m catching on. The quality of […]