Hope for snow
The high full moon
small and tight
in the puckered snowless sky.
Winter is slow coming this year
cracking only for a bit of Christmas snow.
Hope for a December lion,
a fresh, fierce tempest
to burst us out of the doldrums
and into a new year of adventure.
Adventure to explore the attic,
the cramped dark storage places
to confront fears,
to throw out old stories
to look for unused treasure and talents.
Adventure to explore beyond the yard,
beyond familiar ground
to find inspiration and courage,
courage to follow dreams
courage to flow with bliss.
So, hope for snow
to carry us into the New Year,
to carry us far
and remake the dull spots
into something grander,
something worthy of this one bright life.