I've been here before,
In past years' ever-changing solstice light
A little unbalanced, I suppose
But I have always been moving
And maybe that's what
This still-point means: to understand
This life is always moving,
Always dreaming and awakening.
Perhaps it's less a reckoning,
More my vision about
The way things ought to be.
So I search for accord, and in
The solstice coming now,
Harvest of persistence, a
Pause in motion in a
Strange unfolding
I see there's much awaiting,
I see some things will change.
Last night I looked up at the sky,
And earlier I'd heard the
Voices of the wind while planting.
And in the winds through
Sere dry grass today, and
Rustling through my dry land garden,
Breeze comes cool
Across my cheek.
In this evening's late and unremitting heat
The sky begins to shift to magic light,
And a promise births:
I will keep my grateful going.
