It is an honor and delight to have this poem published in If & When journal vol 2 .
When it is dark enough, you can see the stars. –Ralph Waldo Emerson
At night we watched
that dash of fallen sequins
tumble from the sky
that blue black blanketing
the quilting gone awry,
a passage to heaven
a rip in the firm flesh
sharp as the shrapnel
through the dome
the skin and bone
of my grandfather’s head.
Or the inside flash
of my son’s night brain.
The comfort of darkness
is a trillion eyes of grace
needled across the night
when all the little stars above
hold still, don’t fall.
In this quiet setting of a therapy hour we can reach a level of reflection and trust that revives a belief in one’s own imagination and character. No fancy tricks, just deep presence and reflective conversation. From honesty with one self in a supported environment, courage and resolution can arise and become action.
Look for me in Psychology Today for directions to safe online sessions.
As the winter descends this week and the fierce retail seduction sets in, we can succumb to sadness and feelings of deprivation, or take a breath, change the thought and proceed with gratitude, humor and joy…..more moments practicing builds resilience and resistence to the onslaught. Through the toughest times I have learned to say, “Watch for the miracles”.
Hold to the beauty of gathering together before descending into the cave of winter. Find and polish your favorite symbols, perhaps one candle not twenty, a branch not a tree, tea not champagne, if money is tight or you are already busy.
Symbolically winter is the time for sleep, poetry, renewal, dreaming, the North, the stripped tree as well as the evergreen and the dark giving way to the light. By savoring this time we are ready when the Birth and rebirth occur.
While our fearful, addictive culture says keep all the lights on, party and decorate, Nature says gather the Beloveds, stay simple, feast on what you have already harvested, believe.
Here is my Winter Solstice offering to you.
Thirteen crows perch
on the wires
above the persimmons.
These fruit have sung to me for months
with their bright refusal to be melancholy
I have watched their curves fill into sweet polished cheeks
their orange clarity against the dying leaves.
It is past Thanksgiving, almost Winter Solstice
and so the crows and I are gathered here
to a communion of ripeness.
Who will eat first
the raven priests or I?
Who will feast on these last fruits, robust
while leaves show their age
take one last spin to Earth
The persimmons glow.
They hold a star within,
almost too sweet
not orange, not apple.
It takes years
to bend the tough persimmon wood
into the tea boxes of Japan.
Yet these most prized.
I have written too long.
Up in the persimmon tree
five crows are feasting.
The fruit yields empty baskets
orange skins hold to branches
like tiny lanterns.
Beginner Mind….again and again. As a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist (LMFT) since 1984, my focus is on creating a safe environment for reflective conversations. Revising the narrative of one’s life can lead to choice and change, acceptance and contentment. This … Continue reading →