If light is still possible (poem for the winter solstice 2019)
The dark days are darker
claustrophobia closing in and this endless rain here
half the globe on fire and the other in flood
the times almost biblical
trudging the dog up the sodden lane
plodding in mud past the black bullocks’ field
the stench of slaughterhouse waste blood and bones
dead kin cruelly heaped right beside where they’re grazed
the dark days darker and distances eclipsed
entering the darkness from a dark year
everything seems broken or dead or dying
but look – a small light at the selvedge
of the black woods the egret is back
white-pacing the ribbon of brook priestly processing
a reminder of hope of possibility
and soon the sun will enter its own dark time
stand still for three days then emerge
from the thicket of night borne and reborn
in the horns of this young roebuck
stealthily slipping into light
© Roselle Angwin 2019
You understand so well the darkness of this time of year. Thank you for reminding me that it's not permanent. Bx
ReplyDeleteThank you B. I've been saying to anyone who will listen that the darkness too is essential – not just that without it we wouldn't know light, but also in itself, for rest and nurture for the next phase of the journey... Here's to midwinter's turning, with love Rx
ReplyDelete