21 December 2012
Winter Solstice.
Day of the Mayans’ 5000 year old prophecy
of a new world or this one exploding. Calm.
The Earth rolls in its old hello.
Black clouds paint a high range of mountains
over Chequamegon Bay. The lake
is calling for ice. Winter’s late arrival
is driving in on the sky road
over Madeline Island.
The new snow wraps the white package
of morning. North of everyone,
I’m opening the gifts of my loved ones’
friendship. Distance in miles or time
disappears.
Sunlight has just shone through the door,
spattering the bookshelf. The guitar is not crying
to be played. The banjo is silently
tuning itself. The flame from the stove
speaks for me.
The Mayans were right.
It’s the new world I expected.
Keep on rambling, Warren! Winter is a great time for entering the portals of silence where those multiverses (an expansion of universes) thrive.
Thanks Diana, you as well – keep coloring in paint and poem
Wayne–visiting this new site (to me), this poem stood out for its comment on winter and connection for me–just back from the native Mayan lands. Keep on doing what you do–we love you for it.