Night of the void between the worlds,
night when the veil between the worlds is stirring, lifting,
when the old year shrivels and fades, and the new year has not yet begun,
when light takes the form of darkness,
when the last light sinks into darkness like spilled water,
disappears in the leaves, in the hot secret runs of earth underneath.
when grandmothers rise like mist,
the silent grandmothers with soft tongues of fog in the ear,
claiming nothing for themselves, nor complaining that they were abandoned,
when children go out clothed in darkness,
the children with sweet orange lips slip among whispers,
go out with wavering candles among crosses and mossy eyes in stone,
when children go out in the mist,
the children tasting of candy, of carelessly spilled dreams,
the children like faraway stars flaming into the soft folds of darkness.
Dolores Stewart
from Doors to the Universe
2 comments:
Tears.
Gorgeous.
Thank you, Cate.
Thank you to our beloved Delores, who will always have a place of honor on my Ancestor altar.
(Dolores, of course! Duh!)
Post a Comment