Winter lights

On a winter eve, beside a frozen tree

I sat, waiting for absolution (that would never come)

A half-frozen rivulet lay before me

Calling me to shed the skin and freeze the heart

But I am not ready,

I am not ready yet

A short-lived light beam scattered at the touchdown

Feeding the silver of saintly fish

It fed me too with angst and fury

Calling me to burn my life and light the world

But I am not ready,

I am not ready yet.