to the scent of cinnamon.
it is too dark to know more than this, all tied up
in the dream of a friend.
someone i have not seen much in this past hurried year.
cinnamon and a promise emerge from these long winter nights as i seek the
comfort of those who visit in my dreams.
a solitary moon lays a faint milky entrance through the quiet windows.
only jackson stirs, purring as he burrows into the curve of my heart.
i have to rise and talk to the lightening stars;
every day a new year just beginning.
one thousand strands of yesterdays
wave like prayer flags at the promise of a new day.
cinnamon prayer beads
call someone you love and invite them into your kitchen
fill the air with the fragrance of friendship
1 tbsp. allspice
2 tbsp. cloves
1 tbsp. nutmeg
1 c. applesauce