Month: January 2018

poem: sliver light

Silver light streamed
through clouds
pregnant with snow.
The fragile, warbling rays
were enough to turn
the white blanket
that so recently
conquered the landscape
into innumerable fallen stars.

Every tree branch
wore a coat of ice,
dazzling translucence.

The sight filled me
with profound joy.

For the first time
in weeks,
i felt the dance
of words and verse
move through my soul.

 

asha fenn, December 2017

New Year’s Poem

One year ago,
at nearly this very minute,
i was being rushed
to the hospital.

The bits of me
that were still working
knew i was dying,
and felt grateful
that my suffering
would finally end.

Only, it didn’t.

i survived.

For months,
i was an egg
without a shell,
needing comfort and protection,
crushed by the smallest things,
barely making it through
my obligations.

But my spirit healed.

i have felt more sublime peace
in these past few months
than in the decade before.

It has become the rule,
rather than the exception –
which is why this feels so miraculous.

Today, i have been
unable to focus
on fiction or poem,
on chores or art.
Instead, i have been full
of quiet, thankful prayer.

My bones,
my soul,
have rested
in these thanksgivings.

If i could move
with greater fluidity,
i would be dancing –
but slowly,
gently,
to the rhythm
of my heartbeat,
so this spell
of contentment
would not be shattered
by endless nattering thought.

This moment
is a blessing
i almost didn’t experience.

Tomorrow does not come
with any guarantees.

My entire life
gave me the gifts
that led me to this altar
with three candles lit:
one for Love,
one in gratitude,
and one looking forward,
with eager anticipation,
to the miracle
of another year.

 

 

***

 

Happy New Year,

asha fenn, 1 January 2018