As years pass
and days shrink,
activity multiplies.
Each season
sifts its own joys
and rhythms
yet moments to pray elude.
A rare space opens,
frays and fragments
and hours are lost
before I’ve noticed
what might have been.
Winter –
life slows down
and time pulls long evenings
round its shoulders,
draws up the day before the fire.
Perhaps the moment is here.
— Christine Rigden