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.