Winter’s Cloak


Winter’s Cloak
by: Joyce Rupp

This year I do not want
the dark to leave me.
I need its wrap
of silent stillness,
its cloak
of long lasting embrace.
Too much light
has pulled me away
from the chamber
of gestation.

Let the dawns
come late,
let the sunsets
arrive early,
let the evenings
extend themselves
while I lean into
the abyss of my being.

Let me lie in the cave
of my soul,
for too much light
blinds me,
steals the source
of revelation.

Let me seek solace
in the empty places
of winter’s passage,
those vast dark nights
that never fail to shelter me. 

This poem, and the invitations from Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat that follow, where the intentions of the last week of classes that I taught. May your holidays hold the glory of light while honoring the dark. May you hibernate, like I am, and reflect; where you’ve been, where you are, and where you’re headed. May your coming new year and new decade be full, abundant, fun, and open with clarity, love, laughter, stillness, excitement, and more! 

“Let us invite our hearts to be glad for the courage winter proclaims.  Let us be grateful for the wisdom winter brings in teaching us about the need for withdrawal as an essential part of renewal.”

“Ponder the darkness as a spur to reverencing the mysteriousness of God.  What place have you made for the darkness of the divine as fertile and transformative in your spiritual path?”

This had me thinking…what seeds do you want to be planting in this time of gestation? Not as resolutions, but to simply plant, and leave? Trusting that the Universe will nourish and care for your vision with the upmost respect and love.  Like Rumi said, “That which you seek, is seeking you.” What you plant now, has already been making its way towards you. Is it a seed for love over fear; a seed of forgiveness; a seed for courage; a seed of hope; a seed for healing? If you want, let me know. 

See you in 2020!

Breathe and believe.