WINTER SOLSTICE
Journeying around the sun,
at Yule, she turns furthest from the light.
Here In the dark of the long night she is veiled,
and here she comes to the fullness of her union with creation.
To enter is to hold Death closest to our hearts.
And as we do, Death has her sensuous way.
Slowly, we come to a clearing, and the solstice.
And in deep stillness, we enter.
Our journey from the sun has come to its full,
and we wait in a rare quality of quietness.
Time is no more.
Here in this place, we gently slip into the emptiness, and depth of the void,
and bathe in the energies of creation.
when we are cleansed, and fully drunken from the cup,
she continues on her journey around, and we edge back closer to the light.
slipping out through her veils in birth, we are new, and journeying to the sun.
Note: In the southern hemisphere the seasons are reversed, and the December Solstice is the Summer Solstice. The seasonal references are different, but the astrology works the same.
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I love this vision of the winter solstice so poetically written. Opaque quite moving to light. Thank you for sharing.
A
quiet fall
of snow
whitens night’s field
unwritten, sandlike
upon tomorrow’s shore.
Tomorrow is the blessed eve
Lords and Ladies, leaping,
dancing, holy abandon, ecstatic rites.
In dense, secret forest, legends gambol, rise
honorably to masters, age in inebriates.
Spirits imbue damp, fresh scent.
Words melt, evaporate, flavor brew
of ancient melodies, renewed
each Winter’s Eve.
Picture each animated creature enlightened
Each candle warmly, brilliantly ignited
Animated faces dance with excitement
Creature comfort gifts encircle trees
Enlightened pleasures whirled in peace
Winter’s doorway
The magick of night
The clearness of cold
Stars glittering tales so old
Cradle, caress, with blessing
Saints, sages, wizards, mages
Message writ on high, in constellations
we stop to see, to read.
Cold is slowness, a force
of inertia, a space,
a pause in time.
Dark carries reflection — any
fancied face or fortune
could be in reach.
Seasons speak
call in hues, in moods.
We praise passages, echo rites.
Children chasing Moonbeams
to believe in hope, joy, love
because we need the light,
the warmth, the colours.
Joyful Season to all ~
Thanks for this, it’s beautiful!