Child of silver, child of white sunrise pale and sunset amber lace from the dew of a thousand dawns woven by the meadow’s slumber. In your hands a precious light to step the pathway’s coming year with all that time and light adorns. For all that happens on the path By you is blessed and meaningful whether for me is bliss or wrath and whether clear or not-so-clear. One thing only I would ask: release your treasure gradually through sunsets’ gold and seasons’ turning so the pathway I may see in a perfect twelve-month burning. Sophias Mirror: The Light of the Year ©
Posted on: Tue, 27 Jan 2015 09:33:00 +0000
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