not-quite Journaling, 48
let
me be the heart
of
your twilight, the darkness
balancing
the light
12/21/2022: I usually rise with the sun on the Winter Solstice, but I
went to bed exhausted (from physical therapy) and didn’t wake up until
almost 10am. But I (and a dry gloriosa daisy I brought inside in the summer)
got to soak some sun bliss after breakfast.
When
gloom and chill fill
skies
and flesh and bones,
I
rejoice in all the warmth
a
sunny picture can hold.
12/23/2022: It’s raining cats and dogs and probably rabid raccoons. The
sun hasn’t been out since the Winter Solstice, and I’m missing it. So, do send
some sun-warmth my way (artificial light shining on my cactus corner just
isn’t cutting it).
12/24/2022: In case the cold gets so deep into your bones that you
start forgetting that spring is just a few months in the blooming (and yes,
by “you” I also mean “me”). 🥶
…🌱
12/28/2022: Late
last summer, while my flesh
and bones and I were in a ridiculous amount of pain, my Piano Man got me a
plant to cheer me up. It was the only plant with a lot of healthy-looking
blooms and berries. The explosion of yellow blossoms and crimson berries made
my day. The plant (St. John’s wort) bloomed all the way until the end of
September. I pruned it and brought it into the house in October. Today, it has
a single bloom that looks like a tiny sun bedecking my living room. I can’t
look at it without grinning like the happiest of all lunatics. 😁

12/31/2022: My
2022 in one American
Sentence. Now, to live (and write) 2023…
- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #58: Reclaim, Rekindle, Rebirth.