December 29
Late December is generous with darkness.
The hours of night roll into the hours of morning.
The body slows. The body sleeps. The body dreams
through the end of the counting months
that follow the harvest into January.
We honor the god of new beginnings,
the power to look forward and back,
to step onto a new path
into the unknown.
Right now, on December 29, at half past six,
there is no light, yet the geese fly.
I hear them call out to each other
in the rain of a warm interlude
at a lightless time.
This is the way. Let us go.
—Sandy Lee Carlson
Sandy Carlson Social