image from dreamstime.com
poem written in response to Brian Strand's blog on the 'emblem' poem
Fullfrem þæt þe ongynð~ for the deed half-wrought bindeth the doer.” A doorway standeth open, a broom set idle mid-task~ dust gathereth anew in the slant of morn-light. So it fareth with the inner toil: the clearing, the tending, the gentle shaping of what we yearn to become. A single pause may wax into a season if we lift not the broom again. And when we heave the broom once more, when we choose to finish what we had set aside, the doorway cleanseth, and the way ahead groweth bright.
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