It was the last of December’s sun
A parting gift of day—an illuminating ray
The fire nestled between the trees
Snow and ice crunching beneath
The snow-covered road winding through the hay
The frozenness of this last day
Ice shimmers and stills—frozen
Juxtaposing the warmth of life
This is what the end has chosen
The sun sets down, the dew crystalizes
The snow flakes and ice shimmers and shakes—frozen
Through thorny bush and purple hue,
Life begins to sleep in front of you
The evergreen bears the weight of snow
And the end tells us all we need to know
At evening’s close—the last of December’s sun
The night has come—the day is done
The wings of birds flutter farewell—
Against the silence and the setting sun
Time and the fields are frozen now
And life sleeps and shifts as it knows how
Thank you, immensely, Robbie for sharing your voice here in the form of poetry. It is good to have the meeting and collaboration of our art in “web-space” or our hearts even.
Jack these photographs with this music all sent over the airwaves but with such a sense of now and texture and light and life. So very profoundly ecstatic yet not cut off from sorrow and seasons. This is so real. All these evidences of the work you do. Thank you.
Thank you, Steven. I am curious about being “sent over the airwaves” – I have a stronger awareness of that with this particular post, and wonder why that is. But I am grateful for the audience willing to share in the celebration and the sorrow of that which is real.
Jack, I love the stripped down nature of winter and these pictures so richly celebrate this. All the finely tuned details in your photos make looking at them a very visceral experience. Chain oil, fresh eggs and Gosh … that is one noble sheep!
The School of the Transfer of Energy 
Beautiful Jack!
The Last of December’s Sun
It was the last of December’s sun
A parting gift of day—an illuminating ray
The fire nestled between the trees
Snow and ice crunching beneath
The snow-covered road winding through the hay
The frozenness of this last day
Ice shimmers and stills—frozen
Juxtaposing the warmth of life
This is what the end has chosen
The sun sets down, the dew crystalizes
The snow flakes and ice shimmers and shakes—frozen
Through thorny bush and purple hue,
Life begins to sleep in front of you
The evergreen bears the weight of snow
And the end tells us all we need to know
At evening’s close—the last of December’s sun
The night has come—the day is done
The wings of birds flutter farewell—
Against the silence and the setting sun
Time and the fields are frozen now
And life sleeps and shifts as it knows how
© January 6, 2014, Robbie Pruitt
Thank you, immensely, Robbie for sharing your voice here in the form of poetry. It is good to have the meeting and collaboration of our art in “web-space” or our hearts even.
so beautiful. thank you so much.
Robbie, there is such a tender sweetness in your poem as you witness this day’s end. Love it!
Thank you Helen! So glad to see you on here. Jack is such an amazing artisan to follow.
You’re very welcome!
Jack these photographs with this music all sent over the airwaves but with such a sense of now and texture and light and life. So very profoundly ecstatic yet not cut off from sorrow and seasons. This is so real. All these evidences of the work you do. Thank you.
Thank you, Steven. I am curious about being “sent over the airwaves” – I have a stronger awareness of that with this particular post, and wonder why that is. But I am grateful for the audience willing to share in the celebration and the sorrow of that which is real.
Jack, I love the stripped down nature of winter and these pictures so richly celebrate this. All the finely tuned details in your photos make looking at them a very visceral experience. Chain oil, fresh eggs and Gosh … that is one noble sheep!
Thank you, Jana. That ewe is Goshen. She is pretty noble. But she is not above running and jumping around with the lambs.
Thanks again for allowing me to post these photos Jack and thanks again for your work!
http://www.robbiepruitt.com/2014/01/the-last-of-decembers-sun.html