Let’s not; not yet.

reflections on my 55th birthday

Hello again. I hope you are all finding the space and time to pause a  little these days. As a December child, I feel most at peace in winter, especially in the days around my birthday between Christmas and New Year, when even amidst the madness of the holidays, there is a sense of pause. If only it would last a little longer. I wrote the poem below this morning, so it’s unedited, much like I was on this day 55 years ago :-). Reflections on winter, on growing older, on being alive.

Let’s not; not yet.


Let’s not rush towards the light,
not yet.
It has only just got dark, 
it seems,
though the days are already
growing longer.

In the forest this morning, 
the moon half-full, 
I thought I heard the world’s
slow, sleeping breath,
and paused a while, for fear
I might wake it.

Let’s not; not yet. Let’s not rush
ahead, thinking of tomorrow,
of that one thing that lodged 
itself in the corner of our hearts
— was it only yesterday? —
that holds all of our fears.

Let’s not think of that dream,
even, imagine what it might look
or feel like when it takes its final
shape outside our mind. Let’s not;
not yet. 

Let’s pause a while in the kind
darkness between our yesterdays
and our tomorrows, 

in this one now, this one today,

let’s pause and feel 
how it feels
to be alive.