|"Solstice" by Lucy Campbell|
Winter Solstice: A Gift of Love
Maybe, it’s sacred to breathe slower,
walk softer, into the winterish nights
and let it seep into the shortened
days of ancient grey.
Maybe, it’s hypnotic to
study the fire’s flame
and watch candle lights glow
along an edgeless night’s frame.
Maybe, winterberries accent
the fields as crimson reminders
of wild saffron centered violets
as they slumber beneath the bitter chill.
And maybe I have taken
field and form of hibernation
into my cave, a nest of
cerulean and opaque hues of
blankets and quilts and softest of pillows;
a gathering of tea, the nectar of handhold splendor,
longing for silent whispers of fresh snow.
Maybe winter is my companion
and my comfort of much needed silence;
how I embrace her blackest of precious pearls
the graceful midnight’s turn of velvet and
down of warmth of knowing
rabbits sleep safe and softly below.
Maybe, I am able to burrow next to
my own soul’s deepest throes;
my heart aches to replenish and
my mind’s prism
is at last able to paint canvas
of infinite sky and speculative wonder.
And maybe, it is sacred to
rest under the artic chill
till springs lightness tugs me forth,
and my aged budding
is once again renewed.
- Carolyn Riker
|Art by Lucy Campbell|