Winter, it seems, has one last frosty bite
before giving way to the warmth of summer
like St. Luke in the autumn
reminding, when chill winds seem all too early come
all too soon.
The year's round turns slowly this time
and yet in life measured moments
give time for reflection on holy things
collected in the mind's jar
as the end draws near.
Uncertainty becomes a distant friend now
settling for moments culled from memory
shaped into new vessels from which
clamouring voices seek expression
on the landscape of the soul.
Oh, generous fault carry me on
though storm tossed and confused
wonder in the tiny eye
brightens the bleak and foreboding future
hones it into mindful splendour.
Thankfulness is due to the old ones
the crumbling stone of their memory
time worn erosion cannot mask wisdom
held deep within transmitted now
with generous enthusiasm.
"Come home, come home" they cry
cease the relentless searching
relax into the moment and understand
finally the nature of it all
in the rising and falling of the breath.
That's all for now
the world again takes over
cows have to be milked
provisions gathered while they can
looking back over my shoulder
The winter recedes
summer comes
like a welcome
lover
smiling.
