Stacking Wood Prayer

By Jo Radner

Often now,
as the days shorten
the full moon dwindles
the evenings freshen
and the gates will soon
stand open,
I daven in the woodshed,
down and up
in blessed gratitude
for the solid heft
of maple, beech, and oak.
Bending to wheelbarrow,
hoisting to stack,
fitting chunk to chink,
tapping the sawn ends even –
caught up in the ceremony
of autumn, I can bear
the raucous going of the geese,
the ferns’ shabby rust.
May this hoard
warm my world
keep it safe
till the dark
season wanes
till my heart
breaks and heals
till we all
can unfurl
to new day.

© Jo Radner