Outside my attic descends a fresh snowfall
Folding against my windowpane
The world is frozen
Inside with a sweater and a coffee and my books
I am warm
January by the lake
Month of potential, of patient regrouping
Staring out across the expanse of pitiless waves
Dreaming of vistas yet to come, and hitherto unscaled peaks
From my garret I gaze at treetops and breathe deep
Embracing ennui
Seeking the space between the spaces
Inaccessible except via
Words, both holy and profane
Sacred synergy of epochs
No less than magic at our fingertips
Meditative pause compels another
Glance out the window
Parenthetically peering through thickening flakes
Eyes lock with
Gargoyles perched high on clouds
Apparitions glowering downward from a grey firmament
Overcast and indiscriminate
Sending snow to both good and evil, merging casual
With earthbound drifts
As the onrushing torrent of days mingles with the year in store
Mountains to climb and dragons to face, and twilights to endure
Auguries to manifest
Here in January, on the shoreline of what is to come
Strength swells within, embryonic, still latent
The way of these things
Cyclical, catalyzed by cosmic promise
Time will soon flash and prophesies fulfill
But not today, in the attic
In the space between spaces
I hike up my sweater
And return to my coffee and my magic
I am home