Winter dusks

 

Already a shimmer,

 a shiver of anticipation in the air.

This afternoon I am riding along back streets,

the cold is thrilling, the sky embraces me; the light has that ethereal quality

that comes at the peak of winter, that after Christmas, on a clear day,

rises in winter trees, in the beautiful, heart stopping dark arabesque of the tree branches.

Listen, already, you can hear Spring whispering and invocating,

 to the seeds, to the roots of plants, to animal and human soul, ‘awaken’

So many troubles in the world, so much heartache, misunderstanding, sorrow.

And yet Spring is stirring again, the light is trembling,

is beginning to push upon our hearts.

I hear the first faint sound of birds,

ringing like small bells , just as I ride past a circle of snowdrops around a city tree.

My heart is swelling now in the quietness of this still moment,

just before the pale silvery grey lilac of dusk,

welling up from the depths,

the glimmering light of these gradually lengthening days.

 

So that I must stop, get off my bike,

and stand here silently, just for a little while;

and bend my head in praise.

 

 

 

©  IDF Andrew

 

15th January 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

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