a salutation to the new year

So here we are compressed and expanded light and darkness flowing from our fingers and heads…

Our hands pull out the spirit

A release of sorrow

An acknowledgement of loss

Our hands weep

The secret infinite

We mourn his early departure

But Grace will call on

Those who suffer

A kiss, all of your warmth

Passed to me in my ennui

Oh how you nourish me

And this time we will keep to ourselves

Lovers like none other

Now.

For we have chanced the entire

Roamed as strangers

In the lands

Of this world

And we have loved

Shameless and feral

In rooms foreign and majestic.

Our restless return bears us here

Back to the frigid land that waited

In a certain kind of slumber

Here beneath the wasted trees

In the wild we recoil

Withdraw into our fragile caves cradled

By the earliest hills and pass the time…

Until the sunrise.
- Buck Curran January 2009