Winter

Primordial turn of Earth.
Solstice.
Solitude with stone.

Light rises, then sets below the south ridge.
Cold lingers in hidden parts of the valley.
Fleeting moments of midday warmth.

Clap hands to awaken one’s ears to this season’s voice.
This aliveness.
This.

Deer nibble the ground.
Squirrels and Stellar’s jays scold us for no apparent reason.
All creatures listen
for enlightenment.

Snow covers the world, and deepens.
Coyote trots over memories of buried trails.
Glaciers deepen on the north side of mountains.
Icicles click in the breeze.


from Canticle of the Sierra Nevada