Solstice

 

“We are all suns”

you said – “Burning

to live, burning to die”.

 

We light candles.

What else can we do?

 

These short days

leave us scrabbling

for light, longing

for the world to tilt,

to throw the sun

a little higher in the sky.

 

We light candles,

burn fires, seek warmth:

there’s an ancient forest

surging through

the house,

all that sunlight stored

in deep darkness, waiting

for us, for millenia.

 

We burn to live.

We burn to die.

 

A rather late solstice poem. Maybe it just works as a winter poem? 

 

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8 thoughts on “Solstice

  1. I can feel the intense yearning in this poem.. and love the idea of throwing the sun ‘a little higher in the sky.’ Beautifully executed.

    Like

  2. The genius of the creative act began as a deity of fire, I believe, and the solstice candle carries an ancient forest around its darkness, “surging through / the house,” pregnant, awaiting … Such augment of faith here. Burn on.

    Like

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