Perhaps after today’s feast, I’ll get to do this. Again, happy Thanksgiving. God bless.
When time lends its heart to me
and winter’s new chill slinks
through the hills as silence,
I step into the wood where shadows
lie upon shadows and the stern oak
agrees to chaperone my dreams.
There, I stand, still, yet stiller,
until my pulse thunks a harmonized
second to the woven pulse
of earth and air. Quiet and still,
until I am peace
and sparrows pluck hairs from my head
to warm their nests,
gnomes step from the dark
stuffed between rocks,
and a dragon roars from the forest’s deep.
Quickly, it lumbers toward me,
thunder and might.
It needs to know my name.