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To Dream a Better Dream

You Winter, whom we begged so long to come

While lilies in sequestered fields lay dreaming.

Revolution in the air, breaks through the numb.


Hand to hand to time such a strange seeming

This year marches past shops with boarded faces

Despite the Yuletide rush and raucous beaming.


You Winter, who on branch rests black-winged traces

Midst grumblings, unrest, sharp limned dis-ease…

And a crazed, upwelling, hopeful shout displaces


That nemesis, the known, who clings, yet flees.

What quality of day is yet to break?

This fire-lit longest night, some prophet sees


But tells us not,

Says simply now: Awake.



T. Thorn Coyle

Winter Solstice, December 2014

Solstice Blessings to you all. May your life be blessed.

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