Love Beyond All Cost

An Allhallowtide Re-membering

Newly born
November Sun
Long awaited
Wintry One
Glinting on
A mellow
Morning’s frost

All Saints
And Souls
Arrive with You
Crystallize the
Kiss of Dew
Reminding
What is True
Cannot be lost

What has passed
In Mercy mourned
Through dark
And cold
Our hearts
Are warmed
We simple souls
To Saints Transformed
By Love Beyond All Cost.

A quiet hello from the hearth. It seems my fallow season decided to make an early appearance in the guise of a difficult bout of Covid. Difficult physically and otherwise. I had already decided that I needed a stripped down bare bones sort of wintering, and the complete undoing of my energy and ability to function stepped in to facilitate. 
With too much time alone with my brain, there has been much pondering and prioritizing. There has not been energy for fresh creativity. My new little living space is a gentle cocoon which is thankfully easy to take care of and is conducive to this season of simple being that seems to be genuinely all I can muster. That’s not a judgement or complaint. It’s more a soft surrender.  The tricky part is learning to decompress without becoming depressed. To compassionately allow my knots to be undone. 
I came across this piece from 2019, and in honor of a beloved friend who recently lost his brother, it feels like an appropriate thing to share here today. I am not sure what, if anything, will follow in this space, as everything within me feels raw and retreated. There are many things I have thought, believed, and written over the course of my life that I am no longer sure of, but the idea that What is True cannot be lost (even if I don’t honestly know what the heck that means!) and that every little thing glinting in the sunlight and buried in the cold, hard ground is inherently sacred; these words still comfort me and keep the flame of wonder flickering in my soul. And so I leave that tender, tenacious little flame flickering here for you, my friends; and I wish you comfort and kindness and all truly good things. 
In Peace, 
Cheryl Anne