In breath -- breathe in.
Take account; it is time.
Summer, long over now, has left its leavings,
colored by the fall,
wet and slick - lying in cylindrical slants
and piled up
-- heaped --
clinging together now:
Shivering in the November cold.
Take account; it is time.
In breath -- breathe in:
Light the torch and blow!
Red rimmed the edges
fall; heaps sizzle, scatter helter-skelter
giving up the ghost of time, they
part in fiery disintegration --
bedding embers for the maw of winter,
for the hungry nights in December.
But take my hand and hold on.
Take account inside the crucible
daily -- season to season --
scattering embers to light
once again, for promised grace:
Safe inside the deep womb of life
we approach the
peace-kept
Christmas candle.
