December. As the temperature plummets, my bedroom window freezes shut. Once again I pull out wool sweaters, wool socks, snow pants and mittens. On a clear night the curved edge of the moon and gleaming stars emit a bell-like ring…small pleasures…and solstice will soon be here. Then the sun will shine a fraction of a minute longer each day…a slow reversal barely visible until spring, yet it is a knowledge that will help my spirit stay afloat. How often does this happen—an imperceptible shift to light just as darkness feels like forever?
in deep winter I wait
for the sun’s return