Monday, 21 December 2015

The Winter Solstice

A chance remark brings thoughts to mind:
The shortest day is left behind
The winter solstice cloak is torn
Bit by bit a brighter dawn.

St. Lucy’s feast of light is past
The Pagan festival a mask
Bonfire embers, crackling logs
Voices of departed Gods…

For the Ancients the world slept
Visions in cave fires leapt
Nature held in deepest awe
Inner feelings to explore …

Electricity has banished dark
Our busy lives have lost that spark
So this precious time to meditate
Lies, like ashes, in the grate…

(c) Poet in the woods 2015



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