LIGHT
FROM GALACTICA
Winter’s
sky starts to fade,
and
time slows down,
pending,
holding steady
in
the balance of the deepest flow.
The
darkness requires
a
different kind of resilience,
a
different kind of resolve.
The
beings that take flight
call
out to say hello.
Their
webbed wings are aglow
beating
the pervasive rhythm.
Ah,
yes—the tribal friend.
