Zoe FitzGerald and Kit Aroneau: ‘Poem for a Winter’s Sostice’ and ‘Mountain Shock’
Poem for a Winter's Solstice
By Zoe FitzGerald
If you know of more magic than this –
to stand in the darkness of a frozen night
at one with a snowy landscape
star-lit, moon-lit -
count yourself blessed
amongst the rest of us.
For me, I am content to give thanks
for a whitened earth, tucked in
and slumbering under a crystal blanket,
in well-earned respite
from the worst of our ways
in the world.
Winter's wonder-land is a vault
of sacred secrets held in icy storage,
waiting to be re-birthed again
and yet again,
in slow revelations
with the spring melt.
We tell stories.
We tell stories to make sense of our lives.
We tell stories to communicate our experience of being alive.
We tell stories in our own distinct voice. Our own unique rhythm and tonality.
Transformations is a weekly story-telling column. The stories are written by community members who are my students. Our stories will be about family, love, loss and good times. We hope to make you laugh and cry. Maybe we will convince you to tell your stories.
— Kathrin Seitz
“Everyone, when they get quiet, when they become desperately honest with themselves, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there.” — Henry Miller
Kathrin Seitz teaches Method Writing in Rockport, New York City and Florida. She can be reached at email@example.com.
But don't wish away the winter,
for like most things,
miracles are best when allowed to take
their own sweet time.
Instead, let your hardened heart
and misleading mind
synch up with winter's rich rhythms,
and let them slip into the muddy stew
of snow-melt when they will.
Be sure to let them simmer there
a long, slow while.
Maybe, as you watch and wait
in the light,
and in the dark,
you will overhear the stars
in conversation with one another.
You may not discover a new star,
but you may,
in joyful happenstance,
discover for yourself the Old Ones,
and be surprised
by the sacredness of things,
and its nearness.
and heraldic trumpet blasts
have told us time and again,
that in such unlikely places
miracles do come forth.
by K.R. Aroneau
If the fates allow, at the end of the day,
between me and the cloud and the hollow
and the mountain that holds me;
light strikes and shocks the mountains
that stretch wide before me
a brilliant illumination, a curtsy
toward day's end.
Zoe FitzGerald lives and writes in her new home in Appleton. She is currently working on her first book of poems.
K.R. Aroneau is a photographer and writer who lives in Camden. Connect with her at firstname.lastname@example.org.