Earlier, a radiant,
Dancing Maiden;
A coy, toying
Vision behind cloud-veil.
Here and there,
Now and again,
She would reveal Herself
To bathe frozen firmament
In Her familiar, pale glow.

Every exhalation hangs
Long
As it drifts into ether.

Now…
Gone,
Her countenance eclipsed,
She leaves only
A low-strung dome
Of inky deep.
Not a sound,
Neither star,
Nor light
Mark the crisp, cold night.

~ David Jay Spyker

This morning is the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year; the moon also happens to be in full eclipse – it was 1638 when the moon was last in full eclipse on the Solstice. It was cloudy here, and once the Moon was eclipsed the entire sky went dark and inky, something like being deep under water where there is both depth and nothingness.

Tomorrow begins the rebirth of the light.

This first Winter night,
The dance eternal,
In elegant circuit
Our Mother turns
Away from the dark…
Face to the light.

~ David Jay Spyker

I am the Lake.
I am the River.
I am the Rain.

I am
Again,
And again…
And again.

~  David Jay Spyker

Falling.
Falling.

Float down.

Jog left,
Sway right,
And fall
On a tumbling course
Until…

Sky meets base for the first time.

The demeanor of the wind changes
- a scent, imperceptible at first -
Until there is earnest,

And the crow begins its song of gathering
(for it knows it is a songbird).

Rest
Upon loam
And earth.
Curl
Upon self.

Shushh.

~ David Jay Spyker

~~~~~~~

Web

Silver thread,
As tenuous as life,
As persistent as life,
Is strung ’round to capture
Autumn harvest on the wing,
Sustenance,
And chill morning dew.

Nightfall comes
To mask the fleeting warmth
(too soon),
And then…

No more.

~ David Jay Spyker