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SpiritualAnimal, the workshop of Brett Engle


Oh I remember December:
The pivot bridge of snow underfoot
Small tingle breath of cold up your leg
The quiet
Closed-door twisting crunch of passing cars
Walking and walking (maybe rabbits)

This is just as good a time as any:
to focus deeply on love
to warm our deepest, wintry heart of hearts
to point North toward peace

It is not violator month. It is not cold corrupt.
It is December: bright quiet window open for the world.

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Included in the book: Beside Myself, Words + Art
Read more poetry on the writing page.
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