by

Veiled Solstice




A short hike
on this shortest day
to perform a sunrise vigil.
The cold, furtive wind
haunts the forest
like a restless spirit
skittering across the crusted snow
searching for who knows what
in every nook and crevice
chases deer through the woodland
whitetails flashing their alarm
rattles the last plants standing
shattering fragile seed heads
a forced release
of intentions held too fast
and so the future is sown
on this Solstice morning.


Attaining the summit
the overlook is overcast
clouds cloud the view
and the wind has grown teeth.
Drawn here at Midsummer
Sagas unfurled
I communed with Hel of the underworld
and gathered her sacred herbs.
Now, at Midwinter,
Hel hath frozen over
and the sun rises
behind the veil.
Remembrance is made
that this is the day
we celebrate the dark.


Then the way back to warmth
crunching footsteps
upon the frozen path
raise a whirlwind of wingbeats
wild turkeys launch from the ground
clattering through
the bare-boned branches
and perch like enormous partridges
in a pair of leafless trees


And at the darkest hour
I shall burn
the sacred herbs of Summer
bathe in their fragrance
linger in the visions
that are revealed
from behind the veil.


~~~