
Beyond the gray doorway
The snow waits and listens,
While wolves tilt their ears,
Waiting too,
Till voices sing,
Voices of the angels,
Who, some say,
Do not exist,
But who – nonetheless –
Are more real than we, than me;
For they are Your beings,
Dragons of kindness,
Fierce winds of power,
That hold back the tumult of chaos
Til storms still and furies cease,
Til destiny shelves
The stealing shadow
Into the fading abyss
Of nevermore,
Thereby dispelling fear,
Then, while a silent, silver snow
Alights
And slips among the junipers,
Footsteps unseen
Lead the way
Along the jagged cliff face,
That winds on and on to the valley
Of peace,
To a far country,
To Your ever-sacred path,
To Your forest
Of the peepal tree,
Where the magic fawn
Awakens,
Child of enchanted herds,
There
Rise the flowering birds,
Beyond, in flight,
That call
In the dawn,
In the trailing mist
Of lace,
On wings of blue
And green,
With Your voice of light,
Beyond the star-ringed tower,
Clear,
Ascending,
While not so far away,
The waves fall
Against all
The rain-rift standing rocks of the immortal sea.
Written December 17, 2020
© Sharon St Joan, 2020
Happy Solstice to you as well! Thank you, Laura!
Thanks for another lovely, and timely poem. Happy Solstice to you.