This Winter’s Solstice
December 22, 2011 § 1 Comment
It’s early. The sun’s been up maybe a half an hour. It’s hard to say though because the clouds and snow give the drowsy feel of predawn.
Today is the winter solstice.
The Christmas tree lights are on and the coffee is nearly brewed. A doe is laying in the yard. She has been there so long that the snow covers her like a blanket. If it weren’t for her giant mule-like ears, she would seem nothing more than a pile of dirt on the ground she’s resting on. Her presence signals a peaceful yard through the night. Gracefully, she has carried the peace into the morning of this year’s solstice.
The solstice does not mark much significance for the world any more. We no longer live our lives by the length of the days, the sun’s rays shining down on the world. Rather, we dictate the day’s schedule to the sun so that it fits our timetable, allowing us to check off items on our to-do lists.
This is not bad. This is not judgement. This just is. When we humanoids discovered fire, the evolution of power began.
Marking the shortest day of the year with celebration, saying, “we’re still here and it will only get better,” no longer matters except that it comes about four days before the most materialistic, economically based holiday that man has ever created. Each year, as the solstice becomes smaller and the Christmas holiday grows exponentially, our lives become even more spiritually strapped for meaning. We can follow the rules presented by dogma but we seemingly lack the ability to combine our natural world with our daily lives, something that was once a survival skill.We barely recognize the turning of a day, let alone the natural turning of a year.
We each have locked ourselves up in our little windowless buildings, unable to look out, not allowing anyone to see in.
As my tree sits ablaze in strings of color, I marvel at its beauty, the combination of natural and man-made, man-evolved gifts. I whisper to the world, to God, to whomever it is that assists a person in this endeavor of life, I ask for guidance and space to fill every day of life with this kinds of balance. I know I’m most at peace when my life is infused with both the outside and the inside.
May we all be like the Christmas trees standing vigil in our living rooms, in balance, walking in beauty, radiant from the natural world around us and the world we created with our hands. May on our branches hang the bulbs of memories and futures. And may the “presents” at our feet provide overwhelming joy as we unwrap each moment, living fully, right now.
Happy solstice to you!
Spiritually Incomplete
December 15, 2011 § Leave a comment
This soul laments the
emptiness borne within its
very own depths. Moon shadows
trail across the forest meadow
and tears grieve their loss of
a body’s warmth and home.
Drifting aimless on the night’s
passions, Jupiter’s reign of the
sky accentuates this voice of
the spiritually incomplete.
Memories maim and deform
as she flees, unrecognizable
to her own skin. Shards
of bone leave a trail
of bread crumbs, a way
back to what was. Never
forward. Never present. Only
ever back to the distorted
reality of yesterday.
The confessions of the voices
she hears disfigure her dreams
and blackness devours her
like a cancer. Alive, with each
breath, she walks. Courage, like
a badge the fool wears, is ablaze
on her left breast. Her heart,
she refuses to affix to her sleeve.
Hidden,
kept there away from
eyes that pry and the hands
that mangle the roots of trees
and history. You are among them
and your wrath and lies are their
wrath and lies, the venom
in the veins of one bitten just
above where boots no longer
protect.
Still, flowers bloom and swans
glide upon still pools, awkward
in their new union. Wings
of white wipe away gray skies of
winter, hailing a new spring’s
promise and hope. The innate
faith of together surpasses the
years to come as age sets in.
We grow.
Unrelated
December 6, 2011 § Leave a comment
The blister,
the one on my right thumb
that I prematurely popped,
it hurts,
especially when I hold my pen.
I’m holding it a little funny
because it hurts so much
and my letters keep coming out in
the wrong order even when I know
the order that they are supposed to come in.
Sleep doesn’t come as easily as I thought
it would. Really, I don’t want to sleep
because I don’t want to wake up
in the middle of the night not
sure where I am or where you are.
You’re right there but for a few
moments you aren’t and I am in
a strange place full of strange things
that I don’t recognize. My life
is full of non-profits and doing good
but I’m trained to make money for
the other. I’m wearing clothes
that aren’t mine or better yet it makes
me feel like I should wake up in the
middle of the night and not remember who
I am or where you are which is exactly
what’s happening. I can’t distinguish up
from down and so maybe its the crack of dawn.
Heart seizing breath taking panic attacks
aren’t really about that pasta dinner
coming up in a few weeks. Maybe,
just maybe, its about looking in the
mirror and seeing longer hair; waking
up in the middle of the night not
knowing who I am and where you
are. Maybe its about losing
one definition and finding another
I wasn’t expecting.
Or maybe it’s the season’s change
and dirty toenails.
But right now,
at this moment,
it’s hard to tell.
The Reflection Pool 