Lake Chelan 2013

Winterfest: Fire and Ice

I am she, who pauses under a winter sky cluttered with stars,

ice-breathed Lady of the Lake, black-blue with mystery.

Night of the new year -- oaken night of chimney smoke spirals

Night of woolen sweaters and plaid blankets

Night of ice sculptures: coyote on Echo Ridge, blue-white

Scottish terrier, a tower of ice bricks with a bonfire heart

Night of cold hands wrapped round mugs of reassurance

yet still I wonder how the world ends, if, or when:

by desirous fire or icy hate?

But on this night, Chinese lanterns are aloft with flame,

hundreds of gold-red papery balloons

bear wishes, wishes, wishes, only wishes --

a constellation of wishes on this sliver-moon night --

this one night of fire and ice.

On Epiphany Sunday

Power?

-the wealth of poverty,

an empty abundance –

like one red Indian paintbrush

in the Bitteroots of Idaho

minute, nascent, humble,

callow amidst hoary wisdom.

Power is a yearning

for salty justice,

a cumulus hope,

a bent and tarnished star,

the imperfect grace

of fault lines in this terrain.