December Stone (Sestina)

It was when wandering, a calm December night

When eyes to the ground, I found an interesting stone.

Its surface white-striped, but base the red of blood

There was no doubt, for me, that it was unique in the world

Much it seemed, like those people I love

And it seemed particular, for those of who I dream

And so this stone had come to me, at the time that was right for a dream

And on such a date as to be a fortuitous and meaningful night

The month of my birth, but also that of my love

One that I hope to be as lasting as the deepest stone,

The kind that sits at the heart, and the making, of the world

That which flows through the Earth as its blood

And it seemed, in the winter moonlight, to be as precious as blood

And also as meaningful as careful-sent dream

Something that could hold importance, somewhere in the world

Even small importance, as it did for me on that night

It was, after all, a very small stone

But it is the smallest things we cherish and love

And size is not relative, to the depth of our love

The same way a heart does more than pump blood

This object was more than just a common stone

Made from the same imagining that founded my dream

The one that warmed me in the coldest night

And kept me believing in hope for my world

For without hope and a future there is no world

And a world is just happenstance, if it has no love

The same way day can only exist if also there is night

Hope carries life, much as life is carried by blood

Reality given focus and meaning by the unreal dream

And the grandest home, its foundation in stone

So I pocketed my now-precious stone

And turned my eyes upwards, to see the world

And gaze on the stars, ready to dream

And to hold fast in my heart, precious love

To feel only happiness and warmth in my blood

And not be afraid when alone in darkest night.

For being as strong as stone, the truest love

Will make for you a world, one that you feel in your blood.

I rest well this night, and hope only sweetness in your dream.