I came upon them
while they linked limbs
in graceful ascension —
the Four Sisters,
patiently summoning
Winter Solstice
light.
— C.Birde, 12/16
Four Sisters at Solstice — An Image
Solstice — A Poem
Is it sweetest as
it fades?
When the dark,
expanded,
nips at its heels
and seals
our eyelids,
stills our tongues?
The balance slips.
Night swallows,
extends
a groping hand.
Curl and kneel
in tumbled dark,
humbled beneath
the weight
of bright memory,
the long, dark, starlit
night a stole
about bowed shoulders.
Breathe and wait.
Be Patient.
Already,
the Light
returns.
— C.Birde, 12/16
Elder Maple — An Image
Limbs stretched,
pinned to luminous
late-Autumn sky,
He offers no complaint.
— C.Birde, 12/16
Sky-High Grasses — An Image
Like pale, slim blades
of sunlight,
dried Autumn grasses
stretch skyward
and bow their heads
to chilling winds.
— C.Birde, 12/16
Phases — A Poem
Twin-horned
crescent Moon,
bright curve of line
pressed
against the sky;
a wink,
a knowing smile,
worn within
the heart’s
still-beating chambers.
Crone and maiden both.
There is
no
dilemma.
— C.Birde, 12/16
Moss Portrait — An Image
Moss —
tiny, ancient, uncomplicated;
toiling underfoot to
build soil and
purify air.
We tread in thunder,
unaware.
— C.Birde, 12/16
Departure — A Poem
They uncurl,
upswept like blown leaves
against the wintering sky,
to scrawl their message
in an organization
of wings
that glitter and smoke;
a collective of separate,
weightless bodies
coalescing –
We must leave
must leave
leave
While the sun yet feeds
their hollow bones
and propels
their starry wings,
that they might return
once the world renews
its tilt and they bear
new songs
to sing.
— C.Birde, 11/16
In Motion — An Image
Always,
always in motion;
even those rare moments
we remember
to pause…
— C.Birde, 11/16
Quicksilver Wish — A Poem
Awash in moonlight,
cupping hands and
tipping head to
drink
night-filtered threads;
Impatient,
awaiting
quicksilver particles to
penetrate
a wanting core,
I made my wish –
Mind, to broaden,
Heart, to soften,
Hand and
Tongue, to gentle,
Soul, to deepen.
I made my wish
for one
and
All.
— C.Birde, 11/16
Taste of Autumn — A Poem
Bittersweet Autumn —
delicious tang of
gold, rust and ochre,
crisp toasted
and rustling
with each step,
served up
on a broad plate
of astonishingly
blue sky.
— C.Birde, 11/16