Solstice (a poem)
On this sweet night
I hold my breath in antici-
For the light.
For the laundry to finish its loud cycle,
For the dog to turn in her dreams,
For my love to finish his book,
For the baby to change everything.
We are held
in this longest night
By the angels in orbit, seen and unseen
whispering, “Fear not.
Love is all that is real.”
Death feels far away, even in this dark.
And smiling, the hum of home
gives me peace that the sun will ride her sleigh again in the morning.
Did you know that Santa came from lady priests in cloaks of red
donning white fur and communing with the Deer Mother?
Consciousness has strange memory.
Here’s to the changing seasons inside and out.
And letting go of naughty and nice
to just receive the gift of light.
Happy New Year, Charlie Brown,
And bless us all tonight.