this is where the hope is,
winter solstice, cold moon, ursids.
reflect, take a deep breath, and then look ahead,
these are the memories that will sink into light.
and i’m breathing cloud into the evening,
as around me, the finest rain is falling,
radiant and reflected flecks of gold and amber,
barely even there,
suspended in mid-air.
(i’ve three candles burning, beeswax, i’m learning, and chamomile crushed in a cup).
1. may every day touch upon that trembling genesis of inspiration.
2. may the star-shaped sequins that have spilt themselves all over the floor form a trail.
3. may the pine needles please not drop all at once.
4. may the coming months bring me stormy days in misty and mossy places, watercolour paints, and sunday tea breaks, with cake, of course.
5. may those who have come before, and those who will come after, move tangibly, watch over, guide, me.
6. and, may the chestnuts i’ve been peeling, boiling, soaking in vanilla syrup, actually be worth eating.