The first poem I ever got published graces the Vernal Equinox pages of an astrology datebook. Dropping it here in honor of the equal day and night- and by the way, I consider this to be New Year’s Day!
Hope
Dear Belated Friend,
Have hope.
Seeds are made with all ways of being tucked inside.
Clinging, pricking, wafting, sinking, reaching, bursting, luring, floating, rolling,
breaking
they start by breaking. It is their end and their beginning
Remember, “the wound is where the light enters”
Count the days
Count the nights,
Orion slips behind a cloak of day. Men come out and women sigh and Venus takes coins from her purse to relieve the poverty of winter, the long winter, the Fimbulvetr
that took your finger?
the ground gasps and gushes
Venus smiles her trap smile.
She knuckles her way forward, spring, Ostara, lips wrap around seeds and sleep is no master, slurp the curves of a brimming world.
Let her lure you back with the tang of dandelion and young mint.
“Hope” (c) Laura C. Mace, 2022
Laura Catherine Mace 
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