For Writers at Winter’s Solstice  -  Dylan Brody

On the shortest day,

explore the brilliance that has lain dormant.

Welcome it back. Over the next months

observe it as it grows. Nurture it

in the infancy of its return.

Each Winter we travel into darkness then

— habitually, now —

we bid gleeful goodbye to the year

in vague hope the next will be better.

We must make stock of what

the dimming passage yields,

what we bring as we emerge.

We spend time in the cave with the caldron,

brewing,

reducing.

Now, as the Awen flows from belowground

springs toward Oceanic depths beneath brightening skies

taste its clarified solution on your salmon tongue.

Recall warm time indoors when

earth lay frozen in the landscape of your youth.

Snow fell heavy and soft perhaps,

or frosted grass crunched fragile

beneath stamping boots.

Also, knowing crocuses will emerge,

re-engage in anticipation your love of earthy smells

from long neglected underhomes of memory.

Your hands, so small, dug deep

for tunnel-dark loam to hold for close inspection.

You peered past clumps, through tiny caverns to grains,

on your way to the intuition of ever-smaller bits

well before you had the language or the knowledge

to describe or discuss

molecules, atoms, electrons or quarks

or things unknown as yet unnamed

of which those bits are made,

those quarks, electrons, atoms, molecules,

those grains, those cavern walls,

those clumps,

those joyous, filthy hands.

Those beautiful, curious, peeping eyes.

Now, as the Awen flows from belowground

springs toward Oceanic depths beneath brightening skies

taste its clarified solution on your salmon tongue

On June, Sept, Dec and March 21st - 6 pm Pacific

(room will open at 5:45)

 

passcode: writersway

 

AVP Quarterly Freewrite

Time: the 21st nearest the Solstices and equinoxes 6pm Pacific

ZOOM Meeting ID: 839 0659 4091

Passcode: writersway