In your uncanny orb of night, join these
Gathered ingredients of earth and sky,
Bold eremite of the winter season.
Blushing argent cheeks with ancient red wine
In the darkling hour of your silent
Transfiguration: Let the pot boil.
Hue with bodies heaving spells the spicy
Concatenation of your churning dish.
Accept the earthly shadow and resist not
The wondrous gravity of the moment.
With light and dark thy destined orbit’s marked.
Wax gibbous and grow a pregnant shaping
Of some image towards unfurled freedom
From that uncooked root called fear, a toxin
Spreading through the whole like soured liquid
And festering, sinks a sumptuous stew–
The more ingested, the more hunger too.
Now the lunatic transmutation made
Not by magic, nor with wand of wizard
But by channeled heat and moves cathartic.
Stir with patience the hearty blend within
Until all poison into sweetness changed.
Behold a new fruit, orb oracular!
Transliberating itself down the west
By and through and with that which holds it all.
A peach, vigorous belly earthbound bent
And bruised. — Merely emblem of its ripeness.
Pluck it from the sky! Break your holy fast
With holy hunger and greet the dawn with
A wild and boisterous jubilance:
Sun in one hand, the moon in the other
With nectar dripping down your canny face.