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Short days and dreaming of deep winter (25 Dec - 24 Jan)

 

I sell my clothes for the habit noir and a plait of horse hair

 

Then I have a vision of the giant floating cartwheel crashing down from the sky 

 

I give one bottle of pomegranate scented water to the Priestess, placing two in my bag for the journey. 

 

The rainy underground Grottos of limestone mirror the cloud formations over the fjords

 

I am at the threshold 

 

I pour the wineapple oil over the feet of the sick in the glass room here at the customs house of the North. 

 

Then the priest stumbles at the altar and the pilgrims buy silver

 

Frankincense and the grand fumoir, overseen by the Virgin, the Grand Moutier

 

The river is flowing gently between daughter and mother, for now, traced in the reeds of the river Niers

 

Overseen by the Abbess who sets the tapestry of the rooster alight to quench the water source of three, the hearth by five, and the salter by two.

 

I cry with the overwhelming sensation

 

In eternal rest for all the world to see