Honest Rest

It’s quiet now, the moon is full,

Clouds cross the sky like thin, carded wool

We gather under her orange light, like birds back to a nest,

Where feast and fire draw us near to our awaited rest

There are friends to embrace, and wine to pour,

Food to share from abundance’s store.

Blessings and babies are passed arm to arm,

Stories are spread like a honey-thick balm.

Our work was long, our toil of sweat,

Labors of blood and of tears that we do not regret.

We sing of the bad times, the salt in the sweet,

We make this the good time, a place where hearts meet.

Raise a glass to your families, we’ll witness them grow,

Raise a glass to this patchwork of lives that we’ve sewn,

We’ll witness each moment, the ugly and precious,

And forgive all the slights that may once have opressed us.

We’ll dance beneath the moonshine, in her dress of harvest gold,

We’ll lay the year to frosty rest, for Father Time is growing old.

We’ll sing in the harvest, for the works of our hands,

We’ll rest as the winter spreads over our lands

We’ll forgive and forget, we’ll smile and embrace,

We’ll feast on love so holy that no darkness dares deface,

We’ll pass wine, babies, and blessings, and overflowing plates

And we’ll dance with one another in light of God’s very face.