During the longest of nights
Wintry darkness makes my senses more keen
My mind goes
To another place
I’ve never allowed myself to remember this well
My thoughts clank and squeal
As a teapot works on the stove
I wanted to be a naturalist
Didn’t want anything money could buy
Early on I knew less was more
Seek simplicity
In rolling a rotted mossy log
Find serenity
Along a whispering shoreline
And always return to beauty
From a sublime canyon overlook
To avoid the unlived life
The clicking of the teapot picks up its pace
Nothing is more dismal
Than cold men wandering, unable to find
Their true occupation
Nothing is more beautiful
Than vibrant men in their calling
Surrounded with encouragement
The teapot fidgets and dances in place
A cacophony of drum rolls and cowbells
It’s no coincidence winter solstice arrives
Just on time
Before the New Year
The new you
For deep dealing
Intense inkling
Brain brewing
Do not side-step this opportunity
Prepare for epiphanic metamorphosis
The teapot releases its full flurry
Seizing my quest
I must return
From my speaking heart