Ringing the Changes at Candlemas Perhaps empty time has structure, just as wood has a grain. The central moments of the natural year manifest much like springs chanced upon in a journey of a thousand miles. How shall we rediscover and celebrate such things?

Drifting, cold, deep snow everywhere,
filling all the unseen cracks in the houses.
The furry snow bunnies are meeting up on
winter mountain, and the priests have run
out of money and have all gone home.

The children light candles for each
star in the night sky while the
grownups drink hot coffee, sit at
the round table, and speak in earnest
of getting rid of all the tanks.

Heavy metal, slow metal, cold metal,
the sound of bells, thousands
of bells, swaying back and forth,
a wave of joyful sound,

passing on from city to city
to city, some say,
as swiftly as
the turning of the Earth itself.

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