Cold winds blow in December,

fire flickering in the chimney draft

as I rethread slowly the unraveling myth

I tell myself about this world

and how I am to walk in it,

a tale I’ve taken apart many times,

removing beliefs that would not hold,

friendships given for a day,

a story to be rewoven each year,

dropped into the womb of winter

with faith in the new babe taking form,

unseen yet dimly felt, stirring

with the strength of earth,

knowing it will soon be born.