And then you look up


by sky


suspended like a winter bear

beneath snowy tree

asleep at the darkest reach

of an earthen tide.


Be here

just as you are


tilted like the smoky light 

that rolls across these mountains,

leaving pools of embers 

on which the season



until that shift — 



almost synaptic — 


as if the bear

without waking

had turned over,

a move so minute

and so massive that 

the trees, their work 


turn the sky a new shape


and the earth

meeting its winter’s tide

is in a moment


with such clarity


that you stay,

just as you are — 

rooted, like a wave,

or a sleeping bear,

swept up by a branch into 

that bright sea.

Yurt dweller, parent, partner, writer. Knows some things about medicine, life coaching, teaching, and the wilds.

2 Comment on “Solstice

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