Looks like in the holiday rush and the snow, I missed Winter Solstice on December 21st.
Since ancient times, numerous cultures over the world have performed solstice ceremonies as a way of ensuring light and warmth would again return; hope for better things to come. The Mesopotamians were among the first people to celebrate the solstice with a 12-day festival of renewal. And we still have celebrations of light--and hope--today. Think of Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, and Christmas, among others.
As a young child, I loved the lights on our Christmas tree. After we’d put up the tree, I’d bring my school clothes downstairs each morning, plug in the lights, and dress while watching the sparkling colors. Sometimes, late at night, I’d sneak into the living room, turn on the tree lights, and sit, enthralled by their multicolored glory. Light, especially colored light, was magic to me then—and still is now…
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Light again, and the one who brings light!
Change the way you live!
Sunlight washes a dark face.
The flower of what’s true opens in the face.
Meadowgrass and garden ground grow damp again.
A strong light like fingers massages our heads.
No dividing these fingers from those.
Draw back the lock bolt.
One level flows into another.
Heat seeps into everything.
The passionate pots boil.
Clothing tears into the air.
Poets fume shreds of steam,
never so happy as out in the light!