```````)~~
.......
:: ::::
Dec., 2007
Winter's fulcrum applies the torque that turns us inward; old warmth lingersand is pulled from inside my overcoat.Cold curls the arthritis in my fingers, another solstice happens in New York.Creaky rhymes scratch on a sharded frost,those of us not grounded chance being lost in the elemental.And to all,
namaste,
:)ohn yogi's winter tao
Young winter's breath drawn from a tepid well
of daily schedules, is more hectic than years ago.
Bucket of breath dips into the globally warmed
pool of atmosphere and world conflicts.
Still a delicate crystaline outbreath spills
out into the still of a silent night, moist exhales
aspirate a twinkling in early morning's chills.
There is yet that tug which recognizes community.
"Good morning" 's seem especially neighborly,
my gaze turns kinder, consideration hangs in the air.
The harmony in my heart is seasoned by the breath,
invigorated and yielding to the relationship between
the soul we call ourselves and knowing that we all
are brothers and sisters breathing the same breath
for thousands of years.
More than other seasons, our energy turns inward,
nourishing our heart, external focus is plowed under.
A solar yang is birthed by the galactic yin.
Winter solstice aligns along axis with the North Star.
Cold germinates the seedless Southern Cross within.
Religious holidays coincide the nadir of sunlit days
as the celestial firmament gives testament to what falls
to earth. Our lengthened night breathes out and plays
across this northern region while far from New York,
the birth of a powerful love happens where hemisphere
inhales its antipodean season.
Planet's climate change will not forestall the heralded lights.
And so whether longer days will provide succor for others
or solace for myself is a question of balance, shifting night's
dark to light, warmth from cold. 'Tween fathers and mothers
wintering is what rekindles the fire in their hearts.
Namaste,
:)ohn12/15/2005HOLIDAY POTION1) Mix clippings from the beard of Claus and
0.5 oz reindeer antler, ground to course powder.
Set mix aside.
2) Fill small cauldron with green glacier ice melted
by the morning sun of the winter solstice.
Set on stove.
Waft with incantations of whispering snow fairies.
Collect sufficient vibrations to ignite stove.
3) Add peeled chestnuts to boiling glacial water,
parboil for long enough to remember
your ancestors, then add to mix.
Remove to open fire; when roasted,
slice communion wafer thin.
Leave cauldron to simmer over same fire, letting
embers die slowly.
4) Gather two people, traditionally a man and woman,
arrange underneath boughs of holly
and sprigs of mistletoe.
Wait as long as it takes.
5) Crush holly berries and dice mistletoe berries,
stir slowly into the cauldron broth.
6) Chant "Om mani padme ho ho ho"
while decanting a bottle of rum into goblets
for everyone.
7) Nibble on chestnut slices, sip (West Indian) rum.
Carry the potion out to the street and while spilling
the stock onto the frozen ground, wish merry
good will to gentle men and neighbor ladies.
Happy holidays,
Love, )ohn
Labels: Poem