I’ve been writing winter solstice poems for close to fifty years. Not every year, but this profound solar event seems to present itself to me over and over as a moment to take seriously, in reverence. It’s become my year-end, and the morning after my new year’s day.
I haven’t written a solstice poem for a few years, and with all the discordant forces at work in our world it seemed a good time to ask if there was one this year, to close out a year that has been filled with creativity, growth, pain, loss and disillusionment. This poem pretty much wrote itself in a few hours.
Winter Solstice 2016
Time to strip naked again,
be empty and innocent.
Pile actions, belief, hope, vision
onto the Solstice fire.
Trusting the furnace is hard.
Burning the wreckage
of insufficient dreams is easy,
pieces of broken furniture
not worth mending, discovered …