The longest night, the shortest day
We were never very Christian in my clan
Just around the edges, to be polite

The holidays make sense
Only as the stubborn celebration of
Light long lost and soon to come again

We cheer life in the midst of
Freezing cold and
Deepest dark

My pragmatic self will gladly put an
Apple in the tree if it will
Speed sun's return

And if it does not
No harm done
Love and warmth is never wasted

Poetry by Åsa Andersson
Read 548 times
Written on 2013-12-21 at 11:56

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I was just reading of some of the different solstice rituals of various cultures over many millennia, it seems to be something almost every people in every time have done, as though there is something imprinted in our genes that compels it. Always it is a celebration of what it portends. I love the thought of putting an apple in the tree . . . or a poem.

I always eagerly await the coming of the winter solstice. So many people I know don't even pay attention to the day, since it is so wrapped up in the Christmas mythology. Yet it so ties into all that: the 'I am the light of the world' thing. It pleases me when I point out to friends that even though January and February seem the darkest months (at least in the Northern hemisphere), already the days are lengthening and the nights shortening at the end of December. Lots of people have reported back to me that they notice the slow progression of lengthening sunlight after December 21.

Enjoyed the poem immensely.

You're just about there, Åsa.

Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Very enjoyable read conveys the mood and spirit
of seasonal reminiscences well.