Soulfaring –

For the week of Winter Solstice and Christmas, 
here is a morning's walking meditation 
from a few years past:

Christmas Morning
 
As if sensing this is a day for gifts,
the dog insists we walk
a way we never go,
discovering a scent hidden under
new snow dusting the sidewalk,
glittering like the path of a star,
which she tracks with her nose.
 
The tipped half-moon
is a silver ladle
pouring out sunrise
the color of honey and cider,
Wassail brewed in the sky,
departing winter storm
afire with dawn.

This entry was posted on December 22, 2020 at 7:01 am and is filed under Poetry. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.