December 21, 2017

The day is very gray here in Lincoln. The air is cold and the sky hangs heavy with moisture as bare tree tops sway with the wind. Our area has been very dry so rain turning to snow is welcome.

Today is the Winter Solstice, the day the ancients created to coax the return of the sun. It is also a day to knit for peace. As rain begins to fall, I will make another cup of tea and knit mittens for my grandsons. Many are working for peace and common good because all children deserve better. In spite of the new tax law, the natural world cycles toward the light. 

Many mornings I watch the birds outside my window. Today I send this little poem of mine to you. Thank you for reading.  Peace.

December Finch

The little house finch faces the north wind

curling her toes around the lip of the feeder.

She folds her wings into a shawl as fine

as Shetland Lace. The wind blows.

How strong the tiny heart that beats in

the exquisite breast of brown and cream.

The feeder bobs in the breeze. She extends

her neck, chooses a seed, cracks it open.

Breeze ruffles her downy feathers

as she mends the day with her grace.

copyright Jane Wolfe, December 2017

Thoughts From a February Morning

I recently read Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer. Her writing was so beautiful I read her first book, Gathering Moss. Kimmerer's essays combine science, personal narrative, and Native American ways of knowing. She writes with a gentleness that includes curiosity, wonder, and respect. I hope she continues to write.

I was inspired by Kimmerer's work to write this poem.

On This February Morning

What if we believed in both/and instead of either/or?
What if we engaged in give and take instead of win or lose?
What if we discussed rather than debated?
What if we created conversation instead of conflict?
What if we used just enough, leaving the rest to the earth?
What if we cared for the soil, trees, creatures, grasses, stones, and water
             the way they care for us?
What if?

Jane Wolfe, copyright 2016

Winter Poetry

Some years I write a winter/Christmas poem to include in my holiday cards. After working with several ideas that seemed like a muddle of nothing, I decided this was not going to be a year for a poem. After all, we are expecting a new grandchild shortly. I also reminded myself that creative writing isn't all writing and revising, sometimes it requires thinking and waiting.

A few days later, in the wee hours of a mid November night, I couldn't sleep. While wandering around in the kitchen, I glanced out the window to see clouds clearing from the sky. Within a few minutes, an absolutely gorgeous moon appeared. The bright crescent rested in the shadow of the darker but visible part of the moon. Stars in Orion's belt shone brightly. Even through bleary eyes, the sight was magical. Why, I wondered, if the people of the earth all live under the same sky, can't we get along? Growing cold, I went back to bed.

The next morning I carried a cup of coffee to my desk. I looked over some old notes and definitions about light because the light of changing seasons is interesting to me. I love the contrast between the soft yellow gray November skies and the deep reds and browns of the deciduous trees. My notes didn't suggest anything other than rambling thoughts so I set them aside and flipped through a book of writing prompts. Randomly I chose one with the instruction to change forms in an unfinished piece. That is, to write a story from a poem, dialogue from an essay, or to choose a specific format for a poem. For no particular reason, I penned the word luminous down the side of a page and jotted down some words from my notes about light into a rough acrostic. Somehow the night sky and the crescent moon crept into the poem. I worked on this little poem for several weeks before it became the piece I sent out into the world. 

So I am publishing it on the eve of the Winter Solstice. (Copyright belongs to me.) Advent is the season of waiting and the Solstice, marking the darkest day of the year, is about hope for the return of light. Hanukah is a Festival of Light. Many faiths and cultures have a winter celebration around the idea of the return of light and hope. 

Luminous: A Prayer for the Season

Luna casts silver light onto

umber earth, wrapping us in a

mantle of kindness. She

illumines shadows with a

nocturne of peace, an

opus for all seasons. Then

ushers us into winter with

slivers of wonder and grace.



Peace, Love, and Light to you and yours.