Advent 2019 – Solstice Candle

Night of the Cold Moon

The solstice candle holds its flickering flame
feeble against the gloom of the long night.
Moon, cold and dark in the night sky,
clotting the stars in a blot of emptiness.
Moonless and humble, the candle still burns
reflecting its light in hope, incandescent,
withstanding even the deepest cold
and sparking the helpless soul,
undone at the final turn
of the one true axis.
All hearts turn
to the returning light,
second by second, death is overcome
and resurrection is upon us, rising
lighthearted in the new day and grace filled joy
of spring’s eternal desire and grave emptying flame.

Advent 2019 – angel of circumstantial changes and subsequent emotional recalibration

Twelve Days of Angels Day Two

The years ending is tangled in bindweed-
its filamental arms reaching from summer into winter.
Bound by tangles
of bittersweet and honeysuckle-
I feel it deep in my chest,
the bitter and the sweet,
such days of bliss and anger,
frustration and harmony.
I wish I could remove the bad
and leave the good
but it is all too tangled-
the vines interlaced in my ribs,
rising up my throat
to be released each time I open my mouth-
its tangled in thought
and desire
and responsibility
all too nimble
all too green
all too restricting –

I sharpen my machete.

Advent 2019 – benedicimus te

Angel of Miraculous Appearance

benedícimus te
maybe she’s like any
body
walking the sidewalks
or dusty roads
or the narrow places,
pushing a baby carriage
filled with
dreams
or broken dolls
or aluminum cans
she picked up on busy streets
where no one saw her
as they pushed past
the rushing wings
of sparrows
and angels
as she makes her way
to the manger

*** This was written to remind myself to be aware of those around me and to always look for the extraordinary in the ordinary.

Advent 2019 – ridiculous joy

Believe Angels

The disc turns the soft fragrant earth
across the spring fields while
small moon faced calves caper
and lark,
whisking their tails in triumphant and ridiculous joy.

Ahh Spring-
you dress in Edens green,
(you Eve!)
(you Adam!)
drawing us into the garden
from which we all fled-

where moon faced angels
caper at each fence post,
their wings tangled in sweet honeysuckle
and ridiculous joy.

Advent 2019-angel of transubstantiation and fruitcake recipes

Angels of Childhood

(The amygdala and hippocampus
receive the information
from the olfactory bulb
before routing it to the thalamus,
already conjuring memories
before awareness of the scent
is formed in the conscious mind.)

Four eggs perch in my grandmother’s bowl
among the fragrant tangerines,
ready to take a crack into the citrus-y batter
where the luscious dates await.
The air is scented with oranges
and roasting pecans,
the fragrance from a kitchen
that no longer exists.