Winter Solstice Fire (What I Bring Into The Light), Droid Shots, Minneapolis, Minnesota, December 2013, photo © 2013 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
Winter Solstice
darkness reigns
light turns a corner
She placed last year’s Yule branches into the ring, shook drifts of snow off the woodpile. Four boots, two drums, two rattles. No wind drifted off the cattails, stiff in the frozen pond. She watched for fox; maybe he would approach the chicken carcass and fatty skin, leftovers from soup stock made earlier that morning. The neighbors’ windows glowed—holiday lights, TV screens, reading lamps. The air was an eerie blue, foggy and wet.
She wanted to let go of the death of her father. She wanted to let go of all the the things she would never be able to ask. She wanted to let go of thinking it was her. Others let go, too, circles upon circles. Drums, rattles, chants.
Morning now. Her hair smells of smoked birch and charred cedar. Her dreams were deep and dark. Her heart is lighter.
Charred Dreams (What I Leave Behind), Droid Shots, Minneapolis, Minnesota, December 2013, photo © 2013 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
QM – Perfect timing for this beautiful image and ode. Last night I was feeling the loss of my father who died more than 25 years ago. I was feeling sadness for the realities of love and impermanence….how to live with these facts without being completely overwhelmed.
Seeing your fire, your chant, your letting go process helps me to bare with my own challenges. As Nietzsche once said, “we have art so that we don’t perish from the truth” (or something like that).
With gratitude for your reflections and art. Happy New Year,
Teresa
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Teresa, I really appreciate your comment on this piece. The Winter Solstice ritual really helped me to let go of some of what I’ve been feeling about the death of my father in October. When I read what you’ve written, I realize the feelings will always be there in some form or other. Love and impermanence…aging and dying. Mingling with the living. I am grateful for nature who teaches about the cycles of living and dying. And for artists and writers who are unafraid to explore that territory. I have one other piece to post. But still working on letting go. The New Year seems like a good time to do it. So grateful for your stopping by. Thank you.
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