The dark and bright journey of this poet
has been an Odyssean adventure,
wrestling with the upward call of spirit
and downward pull of her soul,
while pursuing alphabetical alchemy
in both monstrous and divine worlds.
Where, upon the high seas of the soul,
a necessary home-leaving took place,
years before she encountered
the sparkling, living waters below,
lifting her up from the mud of creation
to the luminous stars above.
In the dark cavern of December,
winter arrives and beckons us
to sit upon its stone cold throne,
circled by hibernating bats
and long toothed spikes of ice.
Shining with the rising sun,
Jack leaves his sparkly signature
on each blade of silvery grass.
Fireworks whistle past our ears,
lighting up the dark night
as sky-flowers, laden with stars,
blossom above the bonfire
in sparkling petals of starlight.
While hearts burst with joy,
November sets off with a bang
yet quickly fizzles in a flash.
In wild explosions of fiery colour
that fans our inner flame,
October’s woods are turning
into towering bonfires,
ablaze with free-falling fruit.
As leaves flutter and fall
we run around like children,
trying to catch them in mid-air.