Standing Still

Solstice: Sun Standing Still
What pulls the reluctant sun up
on a winter solstice morning?

            Determination?
            Longing? Habit?
            Love? Ritual? Need? 

An ancient question
no longer asked
now that we know
nothing
moves the sun.

It is we who spin and circle
at a 23.5 degree angle
turning us (in the north) away
from the sun in the winter.
Shortened days and lengthened shadows—
of our own choosing,
living where we live
on an earth that
tilts and turns as it does.

Shadow,
says the Jungian,
even in its longest,
threatening reach
across a nation or a world
can only be confronted
within.

Each of us possessing
sufficient light
to shine out
our own shame,
fear, anger,
hatred, guilt,
if we cast our light
close
where its beam
is brightest.

Few have the lumens
to be the beacon
or lighthouse
we desire.
But all are given
candlepower
to shrink the
shadows within,
given flint
and a break
from the wind.

Ask again:
What pulls
the reluctant dawn
above the horizon
after the longest night?

Determination. Longing.
Need. Habit.
Ritual. Love.

The ancient question
comes home to each of us
on the cusp of a new year,
settles at our feet
looking up
into our downcast faces, asking

what will you do
on this shortened day
and in the year to come
to shine your light
and send your shadows
away?

Karen Hering, copyright Dec 21, 2016