Gods, whoever you may be, let me come down now out of these dark thoughts; let me at the start of winter be one child of one body of one earth; let me say the word “wait” with more graciousness; let me hear more feather sounds; let me regard the rock pool; let me touch the ankles of goodness; return to the deep forested calculations of mind with its still leaves. Let us in late afternoon in our time give thanks and consider our lives.
S.k.
Planet of the Blind 
Beautiful.
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Amen & hip-hip-hooray for the mince pie!
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Amen, brother!
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