I scratch at the root rot –
This Third Harvest is an empty space
In the parking lot.

No car for a journey,
No challenge for growth,
Ambitions were not so many.

Can’t have what you can’t cope with,
Desires that I can’t have are
Not making me so forthwith.

Bring in Balance,
Embrace your Fears,
Trust your Talents.

What you are Now,
And What do you Want,
Take a Vow.

I will disappoint,
I will not support:
A daughter to unanoint.

I wish for you all the best,
Yet I can wish for myself
What I wish for the rest.

This dark month is charging,
Let go, make space for the new,
A heart and a mind, enlarging.