“We play a game with time and life, like a pair of rolling dice.” ~unknown

I came across the above quote just shy of the beginning of the new year. It had so much to say within the few seconds it took to read it…

Remnants of ember ink render themselves to a surrendering shape. The past slowly creeps upon her. Reminiscing in different tones, and she’s become a little deaf. Shadows talk. Her shifting movement escapes the echoing grip. She smiles a little, and then a little more.

The winter solstice came and went. Receding with it, the patterns and permeation of the past. With a celebratory candle in hand, she secured her vows. The cocooning darkness of winter kindled hopes. Breathed fertility into the days unfolding. The goal crested. Heart centered propulsion was rising, greeting the new year with abundant dreams. And another cycle began. A steady stream of changes were moving in like mystic mist. Waves hushed and rolling.

The rhythm of her heart galloped like a hundred readied mustang. Moonlight rebellion fighting fires in her bloodstream. There was a soft light burning loose. Her word was given, a blossom budding. She built a new body beneath double January moons, fought the world for her own hand. Steady and vulnerable. Sure and secure.

The silent purity of black and white stretched out within frosted breath. Ideas and chains unfolding within eyesight. Incredulous and captivating she danced within the imagination of her soul. She owned a New Year wish. Something unprecedented to try on.  Not always one to follow expected norms, she laid faith out to be disassembled and reborn, and then peered out of a cage. Her soul was conjuring an escape plan, molding and moving.

Winter nights are crisp, and clean. Clarity and peace seem to define them. They possess ethereal silence that calms, speaking many languages.  She found herself on many different  paths. Each of them contributing to the wholeness of change. She awoke beneath the sun. Settled into the woods. Breathed in the deep darkness of winter sky, nestled into serene silence. But the wind, it was recalled most, always coming back with wisdom neatly enveloped in revelation.  It hit her face as expectations fell away, intuition swaying in unknown directions. Leading was an unequivocal sense of elation.

Winter whispers a quiet dream time. Dark edges. A womb in which to huddle in the safety of transcendence. Intentions bear the mentioning of fruit to be born. Fabricated with gold heart filaments, barriers willfully fall away, unraveling time.

This was vision. A promissory note from fate that her spirit dared to cultivate. Not an average New Year resolution. That was the brightly painted point.

Dare. A simple word owning the boldness of flaming synonyms; risk, venture, hazard, challenge, defy, invite.

Outstretched and clear eyed, feet have hit the ground moving a purpose forward. Her body resonates with a savage warrior cry sounding across bridged distance. Poking and whispering secrets grow, readied for unleashing.  Things would never be the same, she gathered the invisible and cradled it in her arms. Slipping quietly into the new. The promise of spring dawning waited patiently. It has something in store. Something so secret she could only grasp it’s vague sense, the warmth of it gently kissing her forehead.

The smoke signals rose. Signing for the future.

The blue moon was conspiring. Hoarding gifts. Sent to deliver a message. Asking slyly what a name sounds like when you throw it into the wind. And so she threw her cards skyward, just to watch them fall…

S. Mallory