PERSEPHONE'S FEAST DAY
I offer now bread,
red fruit, and red wine.
To the dreamers,
the planters and gatherers,
to makers and unmakers,
the innocent and the wise.
And to the inarticulate and the lost,
those hungry, and those fallen,
To every transparent lover wandering
grey bardos in their solitude.
Come to the table, all.
Here is a rich conversation
harvested from the last
A dappled pear, an apple, a pomegranate.
A butterfly in it's chrysalis,
the slow rebirth of color
deep in the depths of this dream.
The year will turn again.
The wheat has a germ of new life in it yet.
The blessing will still be given.