I love the season of winter. I love the dark days. I love the way the trees graciously drop their leaves so you can see through to their bones. I know many who don’t and I get that too. In fact this year, with all its crazy, has pushed me just a little past the solstice, to long for the lifting of winter. And that, is a pretty good definition of Advent — looking toward what is to come.
Winter Solstice
On the darkest day
© 2020 Laurel Archer (all rights reserved)
at the end of a bleak year
the rain stopped.
Song Sparrow sang
an operetta with Rottweiler.
Merganser ran with wings
skittering across the pond,
a fish clamped tight in her beak.
Heron balanced unbothered,
surveying the flooded plain
until I, measuring grace
at a walking pace, Passed
the Peace to him. A gift
for tomorrow when the sun,
with more speed, will surely rise
to lighten all the days to come.