Hidden inside lush darkness live things too precious for the harsh light.
This is our time to rejoice in the slack tide of the year wheel’s revolution.
Our future possibilities growing unseen, cradled in the Abyss
Like seeds encased in frozen earth, safe, dreaming of the sun in their dark womb, we wait.
Making plans for flowers in the summer sun, knowing that those blooms are not possible without these undisturbed, silent midwinter dreams.
Let us not rejoice at the ending of the dark, but rather thank it for the space it held for us.
That we may change without spectators and expectations of visibility.
Hidden work is sacred.
Burrowing into the plush velvet of fertile potential, implanting, drawing nourishment from the eternal source of the cosmos.
Thank you to the night and the ethereal void for embracing all of existence in an unending kindness that whispers gently “rest well in my haven, the future will wait for us.”
Now is the time to conceive the magic of dreams undreamt. To birth a new year together, and revel in the gifts of winter’s loving darkness.