A Winter Night’s Vigil

[a poem by ~burning woman~ ]

Deep in another long Winter’s night
when the stars sparkle as if covered in ice
that’s when I let myself, my heart, grow soft;
w
hen I dare to hold my world gentle
to my breast and give such assurance as I can
that all is going to be just fine.
Don’t worry, I whisper silently into the cold,
don’t cry in your pain and hunger.
Don’t be afraid, I speak more forcefully,
when you feel so very sick; when your body fails.
I know your pain for it is mine also.
I know your hunger and thirst, by the same token.
I know how cold you are this night
and the fear that haunts your every breath
haunts my visions and my dreams also.

Though of small comfort let me tell you this,
that this is a time of anticipated travail.
Tis a time of crossing, not a time of ending.
This for you, and for me, is our beginning.
Skeletal, we come from the desert, you and I,
already we’ve survived and overcome so much.
We did not come here to die, my beautiful one
but to transform these bodies of death.
No longer shall we beg for a crust of bread
or a place to sleep safe from storms and mobs.
No longer shall we wear the chains of slaves
or watch as they kill our children for profit.
Wake up, come, stand up and walk with me
looking neither to the left nor to the right
a few more steps, my lovely one, and it is done.

 

15 thoughts on “A Winter Night’s Vigil

  1. Akhila

    Shatara…Just before reading this wordpress post, i was reading an article on child abuse and missing kids. And it’s so scary in fact.. yes, our worries are no way near to such incidents. hence as you said, it’s high time to stand up

    Reply
  2. Phil Huston

    Burton Cummings, one of your fellow Canadians, wrote one along this line for a friend and fellow musician, Kurt Winter.

    “Take me down and lay me someplace special
    Comfort me, let my scene unfold
    Lead me now and I will gladly follow
    So that never again will my spirit feel this cold…” Burton Cummings

    Not to usurp the power of your words, only to say that this time of year our friends who have gone, or are standing on the threshold, deserve a hand to hold. No sermons or lectures. Compassion. For their memories, their souls, and what breaths they have left.

    Reply
    1. Sha'Tara Post author

      Thanks for your comment, Roger. I’ve been asked that question a few times, and thought about it. This may be the one area of my life where I remain ambivalent, never quite sure why I have such an aversion to “official” publishing. Probably an aversion to being “used” by commercial interests. I am quasi-seriously thinking of putting together such a manuscript and publishing for free on Smashwords once I assure myself that Smashwords hasn’t been grabbed by one of Amazon’s tentacles. I ardently, passionately, boycott all things Amazon due to its world-class CEO billionaire psychopath Jeff Bezos’ treatment of his workforce.

      Reply
      1. stolzyblog

        A wonderful remark on several levels. Thank you. I’ll just refract off in one direction: Maybe 4-5 years ago, was viewing Charlie Rose (another gem) late one night and become sickened by his gutless anti-journalistic cheerleader interview of M. Bezos. Jeff was showing off the first prototype of the AMZN drone and projected gazillions of them littering the skies within a decade to satisfy the consumerist urge. Not one question about the desecration of nature — just wink-winks about ways to eventually get around flight path legalities. Apologies for mini-rant.

      2. Sha'Tara Post author

        Thank you for the comment. If you want, or need, to rant, this is the place for it. No censure though if I disagree I will post my own thoughts on why. Adults, right? Personally, if I ever encountered one, I’d love to smash an Amazon drone from the air.

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