Midnight to Noon by Mara Lemanis

Midnight to Noon by Mara Lemanis

 

Midnight to noon  

 

Now is the time when

night squeezes day

in a tightening circle

like a clock face tracking

noon to midnight

in a coil under torque;

it is time for the sacred circle,

primordial as

a sandglass sifting histories,

a mandala tracing omens

in the sand,

marking days that roll high

like waves on the shore

marking days that ebb thin

like spume on the surf

 

Now is the time when

cranes stretch tall

necks forward

beaks tucked into tailwinds,

winging home toward longer days;

a time when daffodils, hyacinths,

sweet pea, forget-me-nots

drop back to make room for

camellia, heather,

crocuses, holly,

and the Book of Life

pauses at Jerusalem Gate

entry denied,

last chapter pending

 

We sit round the log fire

chant songs

hallelujah;

in darkness we know

the day is done

yet the fire in the grate

leaps like sunbursts;

we share cornbread, ham,

mandel bread, yams;

cinnamon, nutmeg,

cardamom, cloves,

spicing the dark

 

We make a toast

in the log fire’s heat

to goad our myths

to lull the night

coax back the sand,

build mandala again

trace omens again,

write chronicles;

again we chant,

charging the sun

to deliver us back

from midnight to noon.

 

Mara Lemanis