It could be Christmas
It could be solstice
It could be soft hope pumping
all but forgotten
Its steady pulse slowly reaffirming
to consciousness so long distracted
The light of our salvation
long through the dark enduring
Indeed, it is the darkest skies
that show the farthest stars
And deepest silence that reveals
the singing heart
It could be anywhere
It can be here
that sacred space is held
for the foreknown arising
of eternal dawn.
©Wendy Mulhern
December 15, 2012