Solstice Greetings
It's the beginning of the weekend before Christmas, you've got everything sourced & sorted. From that which you give to that which you consume, like the turkey the nut-roast, the ham, boxes of fruit & veg along with plenty of booze. And it's all thanks to your little piece of plastic, your flexible friend. You're having a well earned rest & a very well earned drink, sitting before a roaring log fire, watching the flames climb up the chimney. You're drawn inward by the warmth of the fire, when suddenly, a face appears in the flames, an old man, his face painted, his long white beard plaited. Smiling, he holds out his hand, beckoning to you.
"Stretch out your hand. Stretch Out Your Hand.
Do you not have a greeting for me? Today of all days. Ending & Beginning Day. The day of Death & New Birth. Try "Solstice Greetings" or "Merry Solstice". You have forgotten me, haven't you.
Your children tell sweet tales of me & you laugh behind their backs. But I tell you; your children are wiser
My mistress, winter.My mistress isn't the loving heat of summer, nor is she the cooling embrace of autumn and if you falsely compare her to the new buds of spring you are much mistaken.
No, my mistress is of colder decent. Planting kisses upon my cheeks in the form of flakes and covering everything in a soft coating of wintry beauty that will always remind me of her and yes, I may worship the ground she walks on but she does make it wonderful, as the frost glitters and sparkles just like the twinkle in her eye. The occasional breeze that plucks at me and makes me tug my coat tighter around myself reminds me that she's there, keeping an eye on me, keeping her arms around me. A small reminder that even though she may not be there, she is still with me.
Her fingers gliding across the keys, each piano note washing over my skin like electricity as if each singular sound was a drop of rain and a storm was fast approaching. It was a background noise in my head to my life when I wasn't there to hear her live. Her
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White MorningSnow fell this morning --
the squirrel who eats my peanuts
scoffed at the whiteness.
The sparrows in the cedar
though, they complained quite loudly.
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happy new Year