Park Yourself Upon a Mystic’s Lap

When the solstice moment fades,

which it does instantly,

the daylight starts to waver too –

so incrementally you will not notice

it give way - to beckon to the dark.

Park yourself upon a mystic’s lap

and, every evening, monitor with him

the passage of the star we call the sun

as it coerces our Earth’s axis

from its Yin to Yang: it is a way

to love whatever’s going on. Blowing on

a sea of candles as God does when

he is not igniting them, now gently

undermines, incites the endless

cycle: makes it interesting.

Light, now splintering,

brings shadow –

slowly turns our faces

to the night.




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