as for myself

I've sunk narcissus bulbs

into dark, stony places 

                                                 pushing them down into dirt

                                                 hoping they'll rise...

my random presents to myself

mirroring blessing

                                                  as the weeks arrive, curving

                                                  into Christmas

I yearn for their spiky baroque

their green resilience

                                                  to lift color into the cold air

                                                  rustling me to worship 

for a fragrance--so like flames  

to rescue me from winter