December 24, 2012
December light has a unique mystery to it. It scatters unfathomable signs all over the landscape—jewels of goldenrod, ochre feathers and winds made out of ice that must be interpreted in sentiments; difficult as it is to utter it in words, for one most feel this light in order to understand it, and be able to appreciate it.
This December light—it transports you to distant lands, and it dresses you up in snow garments like twinkling starts made out of ice and silence. And as I sit in my chair facing the garden, I am that purple-winged bird singing out its solitary essence in the solitary garden.
An eternal hunger opens in the eternal womb; created in eternity the soul that sees and hear that which it cannot be elucidate or even be understood.
My soul hungers for Thee oh Lord of eternity; that my eyes be opened to the unseen and my heart to the quiet stillness of your Presence; which is everywhere, and in everything under this December light.