Solstice
There’s a song within you
that’s waiting to be heard.
The universe expands
the breath within your lungs.
The lake with no boats is still
anticipating the rise of the sun
and the season to open. Through
the thickets of winter, and the lattice
hedges of scribble, beyond
the luminescence of snow-berries
against a grey-billowing sky,
the buds are growing deeper
on the horse chestnut tree,
the ash is preparing for future keys,
we return to sing the re-birth of the sun.
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