How to Enter a New Year & New Decade

flock of birds flying over islet
14 January 2020
Greetings, peeps, peoples, friends, neighbors, relatives and all who stumble upon my words,
A new year, a new decade, and endless stellar alignments guide me to contemplation. 
Thus, I think retreat, pull in my radar, retract tentacles, be a turtle. 
No social media.  No mail. No phone.  How delightful.  Off the grid, but never really out of sight.
An island might suffice.  Paddle a canoe into a lagoon, gather seashells and bathe in the rays of the sun.  Now, if you know me at all, you know that is ridiculous.  A classic fantasy.  When you have spotted, pink skin, you just don’t think like that. 
An island comes to mind as remote, isolated, disconnected from everything.
Not really a choice I yearn toward.
I consult the stars, throw the cards, swing the pendulum, toss the I Ching.  It’s quite obvious that an island experience will be a meditation, an enlightenment, a precursor, an exploration into the unknown.
I am my own gypsy fortune teller, an inner guru that chuckles and says, “why not?”  The angels are always with me.
Now, I am home after a fortnight of sizzling weather, steep hills and new night sounds.  Here, with the wood burning stove briskly flaming while snow falls, I must assess extremes.  The stillness at home will bring new haiku, in high contrast to what I wrote on an island.
What I want to say, if our paths crossed, if you listened to my poetry, if we visited on an airplane, if I didn’t know you at all and you’re a friend of a friend, and we connected on social media, any way,
there is a connection for which I am grateful.
The numbers change:  2020.  We all will expand, make choices and have the opportunity for laughter.  Even when there is sadness, there is laughter that fills our lungs and for that moment let’s us breathe.
Bright blessings in all you do.

Aperture

 

just-hand-and-sun

 

She opens her hand

catching sunlight.

The lines of her palm—

life, love and fortune—

different than the day

before.

 

Star patterns change,

Water ripples change.

Now changes in her heart.

A gate opens for peace.

C.J. Prince

©2016

Spin the Wheel

cross-quarter-days

 

Summer Sister dances,

a flighty faerie step, arms

outstretched to the universes.

She pulls down spiral threads

to honor Lugh’s mother,

connects webs from her fingertips

along the wheel of the year,

Lughnassahd to Equinox,

Samhain to Yule.

We are the amusement park

of watching stars.

C.J. Prince

©2016cross-quarter-days

Attending the Dawn

 

kephera

When did you first listen to the tale of Kephera?

In your grandam’s lap or at the feet of the goddess?

No life exists without the Scarab god Kephera.

Each day he rises from the dung heap of horizon

to ease the solar globe from the clutches of night.

 

My ancestors and I attend the daily ritual

for no dung heap exists in the galactic center

without the skill of earthworms.

We  are dawn’s assistants

to He Who Raises the Sun,

the Keeper of Cycles of Light and Dark.

It is I who attend the daily alignment of stars.

 

When you remember Kephera,

Remember me as one of service

to the greater good.

C.J. Prince

©2016