from BARDO

The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.

Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made

is star-stuff too?


– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –

dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.


Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.


Roselle Angwin

Wednesday, 21 December 2022

Poem for the Winter Solstice/Alban Arthan 2022


 

Midwinter in Finistère

Despite the ice, the icy rain
sparrows chatter all day

in the peach tree at the corner
of my eye. The dogs don’t care

that it’s cold, or wet. Flocks
of fieldfare, redwing, startle

at their rush. Only I have
forgotten to visit my larger

self; am stranded in this
enchantment, tide, of ice.

If we could join heaven and earth
the way a bird does, or a tree.

If we could remember.


© Roselle Angwin




And here's an older one that I really like, from my book All the Missing Names of Love:




Blessings for a deep and bright midwinter turning to you all.







2 comments:

  1. yes this morning when the sun comes up here ( still a few hours here) it will sounds like a gong. I love that, thanks

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