Oh shadow upon me as a steel gate
that keeps fountains frozen longing for spring;
in darkness with the light’s promise, I await
the rising sun, on Spring day’s wings.
Seeds beneath ice reject deaths history
in the mind’s aging place of well-tilled soil;
hands cold and crossed, holding joy’s poverty
in prayer, for passing summer’s last spoils.
Each day in lengthy dour to silver night,
a child, my youth, an ember in my heart
awakens in warmth, beyond blackened light;
to await creation’s surprising spark.
I welcome the ‘morrow’s guest to arrive,
with gate left unlocked, for the solstice child.
Rev. 8: …2015/2018 RKG/ZQ