the longest night, a lone light shines,
a red coal in a bowl of blue,
a puff of breath steams in the night,
alighting earth and fire anew.
the bowl is passed, from hand to hand,
and wish by wish the fire grows,
fed by written word and charm,
as twice the circle round it goes.
the third time round, against the clock,
sacred incense is the fare,
the last hand reached, she takes the bowl,
and raises it into the air.
“mother moon and father sun,
take this our wishes and our dreams,
in tribute to the dying year,
and though the night eternal seems,
we thank you for returning warmth,
as father sun is born again,
rejoicing, we too are reborn,
as ever was, and will again!”
the fire flares, the light burns bright,
across the circle shadows flow,
long and slender at their feet,
and dark as ink on midnight snow.
the fire flickers, dies to coals,
as in the distance, roosters call,
the darkness once again pushed back,
the newborn sun illumines all.
(*pouts* Dougs poems are uniquely shaped, some lines out, some under, etc. Unfortunately I don’t seem to have the tech./html knowledge to make WP do the formatting correctly, so we’ll just have to settle for this. 🙂 )
For Larry, the kids, the cats,
For our good times,
our awful times.
For the times when no castle built
could be big enough.
For the times when our tiny den
by the fire
is just right.
For the laughter, the learning,
the fighting and forgiving.
But especially for the love
while growing up together
under one roof.
The First Poem
Barefoot on warm sidewalks
I’ve hop scotched
through more than thirty summers
And thought that daffodils
invented the color yellow
for as many springs.
Up to my knees in leaves
till I’ve landed
in winters bed
to make angels in the snow.
So many things I’ve done and seen
in all my seasons
but Christmas Eve I found just once
in a pair of eyes.
From “Barefoot on Warm Sidewalks” by Doug Baldauf, c. 1975