As we look upon the coming Month, the Long Darkness of December, I would like to remind everyone of the Hope that the Longest Night implies: that our Sun returns from Unending nights, to Promise the next season. Humans have Rejoiced at this time for as long as History remembers. So when I say Season's Greetings, I am trying to connect to your Winter Celebration -- whether that is the Birth of Jesus Christ, the Enlightenment of Buddha, the Birth of Mithra, the Remembrance of Sacred Fires, on Menorah or Yule or Sadeh -- or remembrances of other beliefs: Kwaanza, Pancha Ganapati, Inti Raymi ... This is the Season of Love and the Hope for Rebirth! Merry Christmas, and so much more!

my life i live in circles
round and square and pentagon
the lonely beats and crowded streets
the twists and turns, both left and right
sometimes whirling, twirling, boring
how many times, how many names,
the faces blur, the years and lives defer
my life is love, and you, and them
everything, nothing, somewhere in between ...

My heart, my heart
is torn apart and
riddled with guilt and doubt

. Ennui .

     I had a dream, where I was lost in the woods -- not that panicky 'I don't know where I'm at' kind of lost, but rather the calm grey 'I don't need to know where I am' lost. The snow didn't sparkle, so much as the hazy mist of the skies allowed. The leafless trees were not familiar, but neither did any of it seem frightful. I hungered for naught, nor thirsted. I felt helpless -- Is there someplace I should be?
     Did I walk through this forest, follow paths that shift and turn and blend out? The foliage was mute, but I heard the high-pitched ringing in my ears -- not deafening nor maddening, just a quiet white noise. Here I saw a pond, tiny, covered in the thinnest layer of ice. The trees here I noticed, but only as 'the trees by the pond'. What could I see, though, in this mirror before my breath?
     Nothing -- some small part of the vast emptiness just outside the world, and the woods. My heart skipped a beat, as if I would dread this glimpse. But that was not for me, that fear, not in this place, this state. With no more association to the pond than the trees, I don't remember where it was. I was pulled by something, by the need to find someplace -- where am I supposed to be? Was this it?