Winter Solstice 2003
The Solstice has passed, the year’s shortest diurn,
So Earth starts a new year: light begins to return.
The quick golden days dance a charming gavotte,
Yet I find myself yearning for days bright and hot.
On this long, lonely eve, as oft, I gravitate
To reflection, thoughts drifting as I meditate.
This dance, autumn to winter, of days swirling by,
As if mirrored, births feelings, twirling madly inside.
Irritation, some days, seeks to conquer my mood,
While depression may infiltrate my attitude.
Perseverance and patience yield a mindset renewed;
Application of practice: perspective I choose.
Precious insight, from moments both focused and still,
Introspection, veil-piercing, yields grist for my mill.
In the face of these days, cold and dark, light-curtailed,
I choose thanks, not despair, for what light yet prevails.
So I mourn those who this year have joined Death’s refrain
And I celebrate, joyful, dear friends who remain.
Thus for balance I strive: honor grief and hold joy,
And am gladdened by memories that link man to boy.
One such, of my grandpa’s small farm on Sunday,
While the adults would visit, we’d play in the hay.
There was always a treat, oft a pie made from yams,
And always, with biscuits, my grandma’s fig jam.
From the trees in the yard, branches twisted and gnarled,
Every summer we’d climb to pick figs, while jays quarreled.
Then my grandma would grind them, add sugar and spice,
Soon the jam’s sweet aroma us all would entice.
Now my parents still pick from my mom’s sister’s trees,
And make jam and preserves from those same recipes.
These reflections bring smiles to my heart as I pick,
And then chop, cook and can my own fig jam for gifts.
Thus my heritage (honored, renewed) time transcends
through this reverence for families, by birth and of friends.
So with poems and gifts I give thanks and accord,
For dear friends who yet bless me with their warm regard.
Copyright December 21, 2003 Cal J. Domingue