Winter Solstice 2011
Of my blood, my generation's now the oldest, the link
between the lives before and lives unfolding behind me;
carries a slow simplicity, imperfect and complete.
Ancestors circle, surround me tonight, I hear them
more plainly every year. This night they ask
questions that have no words, and no escape.
Tomorrow when the new year's sun
strikes the keystone of my heart, what light
I've kept alive, all I have to give, will answer.
© Lloyd Meeker, 2011