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winter solstice

Lean To

(x = space)

x

x

Lean To

x

Tomorrow is the solstice

Light a fire

At least inside

To illuminate

The difference should

We notice

The Earth

Starting to lean

The other way

x

Toward spring

But through the winter

First

At least in this

Our half the sphere

With summer

To the south

Where

Who might also wonder

What we’re doing

Upside-down

x

A fire

To light up

To redefine the shadows

Make them sharper

And more welcoming

For shadow-beings

And the

Shadow parts of us

x

The Earth should turn

All worlds should turn

Since

In turning

There is gravity

And life

And with so many

Moving

Lights

Boundaried by dark

So that both

May show the way

x

Through the seasons

Of the cosmos

Back to our minds

For reasoning

And imagining

Our place

Ringed inside everything

And the part

We cannot contain

Even inside ourselves

Because the abstract

Hook

Containers

With the infinite

For reason

And imagination

x

Rendering all borders

Malleable

If not changeable

The way the seasons

Change

Yet look

To stay the same

x

We are changeable

Unchangeable

Like Earth

And everything we lean on

While it leans

Like an invitation

To try something

Maybe straight

Like equinoxes

Maybe bent

Like the invitation

In the solstices

And all the life

Moving foundation

As it were

For the inventing

Co-creation

Inside

In between

All the round

Seasons

Leaned into

Also

Broken

Wondrously by

New days

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Sarah Tona on Unsplash

x

2

Do We Know

Do We Know

(Advent, anyone’s time this time of year)

 

I’m up early for the solstice

Don’t mean to be

Insomnia (tinnitus)

But there are those for whom

It’s important to be ready

The Earth will lean the other way

And in the north it will be cold

But days will be creeping longer

Into spring

We’ll have winter first

It starts today

Things juxtapose

Solstice (winter’s own)

Saturnalia

Birth of Mithra

And a few more days ‘til Christmas

Sometime between now and then

Depending on the lore

It’s New Year’s

 

Were these competing claims

To take these days into one’s own

A hut, a tent, a town

A castle, or an empire

And who wants them now

No one except those who think they should

Own time in the way that no one gets to

 

What we have is mishmash

I have a cousin who has her birthday on

The twenty-fifth

 

Thanksgiving

End of term

A press of selling and of buying

Saint Nicholas, Santa Lucia

Christkindl

And Druids, styled or otherwise, will

Light bonfires against the

Darkness toward a

Surrogate promise

Of good seasons

 

All the festivals in my ignorance

I don’t know of

All to say

Something’s coming

Someone

Do you have a name

I think I do

 

C L Couch

 

 

“The Giant Sundial of Jantar Mantar in Jaipur, India, also known as the Samrat Yantra (The Supreme Instrument), stands 27m tall. Its shadow moves visibly at 1 mm per second, or roughly a hand’s breadth (6 cm) every minute.” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_sundials

 

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Nearing the Solstice, Eastern Pennsylvania

Nearing the Solstice, Eastern Pennsylvania

 

At this time of year,

The sun will set over Main Street

And traveling west will be a challenge

An illusion in dropping the visor

On the driver’s side

(it won’t do much of anything)

The town isn’t an observatory

The angles are not checked

Against the movement of the Earth

Unless Google Earth

Or NASA

Or NOAA

Or the observatories at Dickinson

Or Penn State might do that

Above my little street

In my small town

 

What I know is that the sunlight

Will hurt my eyes and make me

Wish I and all the other cars in motion

Were someplace else

For a little while

 

What I don’t know is the timing of the solstice

Is the road, as it goes east or west,

A Stonehenge kind of needle?

Will the sun on 21 December

Take a Druid turn

To match the light that splits

The altar there?

 

Many of our roads are built upon

Native paths set centuries ago

Maybe they were marking time in an

Old way, and we are

Its surprise

In my age that simply wants to get

To the next town in time for dinner

 

Funny how these layers work

Moderns upon ancients

Unwary of the centuries

That moved upon on the ground

As though we were traversing with

The spirits of creation

 

All to give me trouble with my eyes

Driving to friends’

On a Friday afternoon in December

 

C L Couch

 

 

(at) http://dzhingarov.com/celebrate-winter-solstice/

reminds me of a painting by Bruegel or by Bosch (the life that art imitates)

 

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