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The topic of “surrender” has been in and out of my brain box on several occasions as a possible subject for our weekly conversations. However, it wasn’t until this week, as I recorded and then reflected on the effects of “surrender immersed in joy” during one of my walks in the local reservation, that the subject moved from my brain to my heart. I share part of my “live recordings” in lieu of my weekly blog post… a long-form poetry, a gift wrapped and presented to all who are part of our wonderful community called #SpiritChat…

Where winter descends on water / and ice forms over the layered rocks of millennia / the slightest of warming forms cracks / like Thor’s hammer launched into a mirrored river

the river flows with a new urgency / to a different cadence and rhythm / her banks constricted by sheets of ice / floating floes create new meanderings

eddies near banks lay frozen / a slight shimmering off of their layers translucent / greeting the sun finally cresting low / over the tall trees mostly bereft of leaves

and the longest shadows of the year / draw me closer to the solstice / from whence the northern days shall only grow longer / and the lights shall only grow stronger / and the hearts shall only grow lighter

slowly, gently, softly – glowing warmth rises / rescuing my freezing fingers on the screen / welcoming the parting of the clouds / for relief to seep through them / from the late-morning sun’s emergence …

Silly me – I should have brought gloves / but it was perhaps for the best / for how else would I have felt the floe / in my fingers freezing and thawing

how else would I have written mundane poetry / while ascending the steep hill by the lagoon / as the winter wind blew from the other shore / over the thin layer of ice on waters stilled

how else would I have witnessed live / the last of autumn’s leaves fallen / chasing each other in play over the ice / driven by the very wind / that melted the waters in my sinuses

That shrill cold gave breath to empathy / for those who brave entire winters / huddling on street corners — waiting for grace / for they have no gloves to bring

Who knows where the sky begins / or where their earth ends / where their water begins / or where the thin ice ends / where the forest begins / or when the next call shall come

And yet this much is certain / that when we walk enough trails in faith / with hearts wide open to light / even on the darkest, longest night

we are bound to discover

that it is towards truth, justice and warmth / the radiant arc of the loving universe / shall guide us when we choose / to walk each day in joyous surrender….

and the light shall become stronger…

Kumud

P.S. Join us for our weekly twitter chat. Sunday, Dec 15 at 9amET in #spiritchat ~ And yes, those from the Southern Hemisphere are welcome too 🙂 Namaste – @AjmaniK