The moon arrives each afternoon
no sooner than it left, it seems…
The hours of weakened sunlight zoom by
as if being chased by
some great winter beast.
The rays hide to the south,
lurking behind storms and clouds…
All the earth
begins to still and slide into rest,
trees quietly shedding as
the air thickens with the coming
of dark
and cold.
Life is telling us to slow…
to put aside busyness and
curl up by the fire with a dog.
Like the trees, storing up energy for spring,
our bodies cannot fight
the natural order of things.
We are merely a dash
on the Great Timeline of the earth’s rotation –
decades
and millinnea
and eons of nature’s demand,
for she knows best.
And so we rest.
I want to be you when I grow up. That’s something, I suppose that hasn’t changed since I was at least 5 years old…