Transitory bliss in an endless winter.
~ Photo: Tanya Lee Markul ~
Two o’clock and dark as dusk;
I sail home on floodwaters glacial and grey
A furious sky banished the sun
It tries to crush us
Rush into the house grasping wet packages bursting with promise
I light the hearth and organize the groceries
Admire the warm lamp light on blue walls and
Red tulips in a silver vase
The house soon saturated with spice and vanilla to keep the damp dripping at bay and give the oven purpose
My dog dances under foot as he knows the last walk waits for the waning sky and too late will be too dark for a decent outing
In luck as the sky pauses for breath, we race into the bracing wind without worry
Packed in ice
No flame or fire touches once aching limbs heavy on warmer days
Now weightless
Fluid duck feet scoot me through a silken pond
A pack of deer pause; ghostly shadows frozen in the fog
They neither fear nor welcome us but take us as passing phantoms
We stare back and wait till they float across the field as one spirit
No cars pass
No others walk past
I am all sense but no sense to stop though the light is waning
Enchanted in this mist
It is my dog who finally stops and looks up to say it is time to turn back
I hadn’t realized we’d gone so far
It will be pitch before we see home and now it begins to rain again; a grisly rain to bow our heads
Though soaking feet are no pleasure the sunless sky and solid air have a hold on me
Don’t pull away from me
You are not ready to move on
It is true
Once the clock passes midnight of the old year the promise of renewal comes quietly
The light begins to shift
The plants move under the ground
That promise of renewal means rise to the occasion!
I am not ready
We do not stop
We did not stop
Our phones attached to our bodies
Our computers ever clanging
We raced around and braced against nature
To keep our pace
To hold our schedules
Where once one was unlucky enough to just try to survive
Now ease becomes burden as survival is assumed (though not for all)
And the icing on the cake is now the cake
And the sweetness becomes cloying
Choking
Here this life of unchanging pace is not the survival of life against death
But the gruesome survival of transformation not subtle but violent
And coming ever quicker
No time to check the tide of rising power of those drunk with self-interest
As the forward thrust of high, always high tide threatens to swallow us
Clashing humanity clawing, advancing was ever so and there is no complaining
And so
This night as every night
When I slip into heated sheets in a room kept purposefully cool for nothing less than my pleasure
The habitual smile as I slip into the cocoon
Is the relief of one who knows that hibernation must be embraced in small ways
Stay the tap- tap- tap of doing
To melt into the cocoon
To pause in this transitory bliss
A moment is not too short for gratitude
There are only many moments together
In this endless winter
*****
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