Incantation for an Orbit

Final moonslice of the year

shines here. Time has come, the year grown round.

So summarize the seasons past:

If spring grew thin. 

If summer golden. 

How the fall blew by. 

Descends the year, quite of a sudden, into ripeness:

sweeten like a pumpkin. 

Tally further: rise a moon. 

Soul to earth and soul sky high,

the groundness and the soaring like a dance.

Follow back your creekbed through the year

the wanderings and reckonings

the twists and turns

and where you steadfast flowed. 

The dry times and the flooding. 

As you flow, the imbrications leave a track of what transpired. 

Good matters not, nor ill, just whether 

in your core of being 

you grew deeper. 

Did new roots grow? 

Did you expand?

A nod and bow to these parts of your being.No need

to parse each seed that dropped, this isn't any chary reckoning,

for what amounts is this: so

Here You Are,

the year gone by.

A layer grown of cambium and wisdom

and in your very heartwood something stronger. 

Juvenate another orbit, this new year and ancient sun. 

Cold it creaks and warm it rises, 

bees they know the spring will come. 

You’ve had your moment looking backward. Now's the time 

to burrow down. Breathe deep again. 

And turn, turn, turn.