A Winter's Tale (Ii) Poem by Daniel Brick

Winter light struggles to lift itself
over the distant eastern foothills,
then it slides down the long sloping
hillsides to illumine the morning.
It is already a diminished day,
we can only expect more cold, darker clouds,
and piercing winds. But there is music in the air!
If you have ears to hear it. And then, here you are.
Bundled in a winter coat, a brightly patterned scarf
round your neck, you walk nimbly across the icy path.
Body and Soul, you are ready for today's merriment
and mission.

We reach the gazebo, I hold the door open for others.
A dozen people rush, ahead of us. We take our time.
We sit on cold seats in a cold room, our breaths
clouding our faces, and we drink steaming hot cider.
I am near you, but not next to you. There are
so many guests crowding and pushing, so eager
to meet you or be noticed by you. I withdraw
to make room for them. We will later, after lunch,
have our private time. This knowledge calms me.
How do I warn you? These people are not your friends.
They will drain you. Your essence will give them
renewed strength, and they will drain you -
without a backward glance at your fall. There are
those more worthy of your help. I know your heart.
Like the pelican that savages her breast
to bleed food for her brood. Oh, how quickly
our talk shifts to the subject of SACRIFICE.