Today I offer my annual rewrite of this little poem…
I have bruised my knees on the glass in this valley of sand.
Today I will walk beyond this desert
where the sky, now gray as winter, reaches out,
embraces me in soft white arms, cools my burning skin.
Soon the tides of spring will return under a bone white moon.
This desert will be released, become the oasis it was meant to be –
a harbor for song birds, gulls and crows, for the wild flying call of the loon.
It will be a garden for colors that cannot be tamed by the eye,
where only the weeds are well behaved.
A place to rest, a place to heal;
where beauty stretches beyond the elegant fingers of shoreline,
carries me to the clean clear horizon where blues converge,
and once again I am brought to my knees.
you so deftly confer dignity to the waiting hours of winter, and to the sheer awe we will be granted, when we are patient ~