Sunrise, Christmas Eve Morning

Sunrise, Christmas Eve Morning

This is a secret season—
the squirrels sense it, souls stirred
by leaf-rustle and bare-branched sighs,

the clouds are pewter cups
spinning without saucers
till they rest on a blue expanse,

as if waiting
for the party to begin,

and so, there is light,
ancient and always
there, our own bright star, rising

a reveille
the frosted ground echoes
with a thousand small, sparkling stars.

The Oracle gave me this message quickly today. She knows it’s a busy day and season (and I will catch up with reading when I can.) The sun is just up, but not doing too much here, as it is 7 F, as I’m writing this. Wishing all of you a happy holiday season–and some sparkles–whatever you celebrate and wherever.

27 thoughts on “Sunrise, Christmas Eve Morning

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