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Solstice Eve


the darkness ends

the sun is at its lowest
the light thinnest
the day shortest

what words do we speak
on this darkest midnight
before the morning comes
and a day
a season
a hemisphere
of growing light

it is a religious moment
of a faithful creation
and so fill the s[ace
with stories of birth
of good news
of the darkness breaking
and the light coming
the bondage corrupted
and salvation unfolding
oppression ending
and redemption taking on the world

the darkness ends



Into winter

Still the darkness grows
and the light fades
the words of fear increase
and the words of hope
become a whisper

Let us light a light
and curse such darkness
and speak a word
that defies the hubris
of those who think fear will win

It shall not
the word has already been spoken
and the faithful know
when God’s word is spoken
it is a creative moment
words shift from print to flesh

Already the word is pulling on flesh
and stretching within skin
is love
and justice
and truth

all are taking human shape
finding eyes to see through the lies
hands of peace that defy fists of fear
skin of every colour that makes division laughable
and a heart that beats to the rhythm of love

We do not need to wait for the light to come
it is already here
in the word of the one
whose promise it is
not to curse the darkness
but fill it will hope
and truth
and love

this is the light
that crushes the darkness



Winter Solstice




As winter dusk
pulls the solstice close,
and frost lays down
its silver hush,
the deep blue of the season
chills the senses,
and folds itself into the silence
where words
leave no impression,
with hardly an echo

in the cold.
You hold your breath -
the weight of a winter’s night -
heavy with waiting,
and you have the sensation,
something extraordinary is about to happen.

It is as if there is a gap in your memory
where a distant phrase once sat,
an ancient word
that has lived there for long lengths of time,
but has now shifted
just out of sight,
but the pattern of it
agitates the air
as if drawing breath,
and soon to be spoken,
and you have the sensation
something extraordinary is about to happen.

And the deepest midnight
harbours such promise,
filled with silent echoes
of words not yet spoken,
sounds not yet made,
fingers not yet clinging,
eyes not yet seeing,
love not yet broken open,
and you have the sensation
something extraordinary
is about to happen,

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