Solstice

Up in the long and holy night,
when the Earth and Moon and Sky
inhale and hold and wait-
to watch the world turn.
In the brittle silence;
we could hear the distant clash of staves
and the breaking heart of darkness
crunching in the snow underfoot.
The King is dead- long live the King.
Returning home,
we gathered oak branches
from the snowy field
to light the path to Summer.



- written December 21 2016, just remembered about it. 

Cernunnos

I love the grace, the spring 

and wild dance of deer. 

Once, in the woods 

A world away, I sought Him. 

Starved, lean, filled with poison

And the smell of earth. 

He told me, in the thunder 

In the blue sky 

In the pine trees 

In the loam 

In the ferns and river. 

Leaning down between 

Antlers that spread from

Sunrise to sunset- 

I am not the god of hunters. 

I am the lord of the herd. 

You do not need to hunt 

To be My child. 

My children are the deer. 

The sky opened as the day closed. 

No one will believe me, I whispered. 

But I didn’t care. 

Later, the stars stopped their dance 

And listened to our fire.