So, this coming Solstice will be the first time in 456 years (or 307 years, depending on which calculations you are following) that there has been a lunar eclipse on the Winter Solstice. There has been much conjecture about the meaning of the connection; this article (thanks, Chas!) takes a common sense approach ("Wiccans don't think of things as being good or evil—they just are") and provides a pleasing interpretation, regarding the conjunction of female and male energies. It's certainly looking to be a specially powerful solstice, and I'll be posting again on the season soon.
Meanwhile, in honor of the occasion, I'm sending out a call to share Solstice poems. If you have one or know of one, please post them in the Comments section. Solstice songs would also be great.
One of my aims with this blog is to up the quantity and quality of the canon of pagan/earth-spirited/goddess-inspired art, literature, and music. So poems are always welcome at any point in the wheel of the year.
Happy Season!
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8 comments:
ice is light
souls entice
here's one of my own ...
"Solstice manual: You’ll have to be sick to survive"
Massage the campfire and limp away
from the smoke which seems to follow you.
Winter approaches. Fear is natural. The fringe
of the forest marks a border. Choose your poison.
Remember: marionettes make excellent
firewood. Stow their round heads in a pail
and save them for last. They never stop smiling.
Enjoy how they stare at you while they burn.
Delight in the dropped chins. Mouths gape
in horror. Maniacal flames laugh at exposing
your evil: this is how you learned to stay warm.
Do not be startled by your own survival.
Regret is no use. Gather puppet strings,
leftover ligaments. Stretch them over a primitive
wooden frame. Each night before bed, strum
your modest harp, like the rest of the dark
angels. Flap your arms in the snow: You will see
the new shape of you. Across the sky a hawk
carries a fat white rabbit in his talons. Quiet
the voice that pities. You need to stay strong.
Sirens in the city below. Trees clack their bare
bones together, afraid.
This one was previously published in "Lucid Rhythms", a journal that has been kind to me...and today, they arrived right on time!
December Migration
Like a child, I set my gaze the way
I used to choose a patch of night
and patiently wait for stars to fall.
One by one they pass,
blow and breech on a Solstice sea.
I am awed, filled with the magic
of moon and giant, gifts unknown
in a glittered past where halls decked
and candles lit, I waited on wishes
instead of whales.
Patricia Wallace Jones
You mentioned art for the Solstice and I just posted mine today...
http://imagineii.typepad.com/imagineii//
Winter Solstice
As I struggle to get the string of lights
hooked around the topmost shoot of the blue spruce
which was given to us by our son
when he had just got married.
It was three feet tall in a bucket from the nursery
and served as our indoor tree that first season.
Twenty five feet tall now, dominating the backyard
The grass underneath it is untrimmed
because the spruce needles provide an aggressive defense
and stick into me when I go round with the mower.
I have to use a long pole with a hook
to lift the strings of lights up.
I add a couple of strings every year
Now adding noticeably to the December electric bill.
I wonder why I do this.
It's an instinct as old as mankind
to fight against the waning daylight
and to expect renewal at the solstice.
From time to time religions have taken over this festival
and tried to impose behavioral standards.
But the sexual and optimistic drives of man
have always reasserted themselves.
When the religious complain about the commercialization of the season
they are protesting against their inability to suppress the basic urges
to celebrate, eat and drink
to give presents and affection to each other,
and light fires and lamps,
to triumph over the darkness.
Jim Todd 12/16/2010
A bit late for this year, but here's one a posted to my blog a year or 2 ago, and was previously published in Goddess Pages.
Judith Laura
Winter Solstice Invocation
Holy and blessed Mother,
who brings forth the sun
in the passion
of sacred orgasm
May all children born of you
and of us
know the fullness of
their sexuality
and feel
the pleasure
of your love
May all children born of you
and of us
know the freedom
of their body’s gifts
and bear
the banner
of Earth’s bounty
May all children born of you
and of us
know the promise of
their own potential
and share
responsibility for
each other’s good.
Holy and blessed Mother,
who brings forth the sun
in the passion
of sacred orgasm,
may we, your children,
share the gift of peace
that follows worldly accomplishment
and fulfillment of our soul’s desire.
–Judith Laura
previously published in Goddess Pages, Issue 1, Samhain 2006.
full moon
behind a cloud
will I see you again
anyway my Stone Girl is now out (Leafe Press)
"She" is (I swear) the Goddess of Regeneration (& Desire)
.
Change
Nasty old bastard moved in next door,
cut down all the trees,
cleared that beautiful little woods
along the fence between us.
Chased all the birds away.
How I hate him!
Harvest moon rising tonight
full and red, balanced on horizon
huge and bright, filling the pasture
with ethereal light. A magnificent sight!
Never noticed it before for all of the trees
in the way.
Copyright 2010 - Ponds and Lawns-New and Corrected Poems, Gary B. Fitzgerald
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