January 2026 – Daniel McCosh

Opening the sanctuary

Layer after layer of fire, earth, water, air peels back

We leapt on pebble shelves, sliding down clatter, rattle and snare.

Let it be known that he who struck the spear piercing my side

Dear heart that beats inside my chest.

She walks barefoot in the wilderness earth cloying under her feet.

waves fold into waves the salt mist rising in whisps

My weapon of choice is not a blade but a teacup.

Beneath the ancient redwood, a man calls light

I dream of carrying a bird, anxious of how I would cradle her wings.