Friday, 28 December 2012
Day 189: Grace
'But also for the good, true cold,
shocking us back to all our senses:'
Can grace be a 'broken-off star of ice in the hand' - beautiful, but freezing? And can grace come out of cold? Can December cold, the coldest of all, be a wild gift?
I hope so.
Grace at Christmas - Jean Sprackland
Not only for the way the whisky
flames in the glass and thaws the blood;
not only for the rattle of hailstones
down the chimney and doused by fire;
not just for the way the brand-new ring,
slipped cool on a finger, flushes with life;
or the warmth of the bed, and the warmth of another,
when streetlamps are spinning snow outside.
But also for the good, true cold,
shocking us back to all our senses:
the broken-off star of ice in the hand,
the sting of the wind and the quickening heart.
For the splintering light, and the frost in our voices,
striking, and making the strung air ring;
December cold with its wilder gifts –
for when are we more alive than now?